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empreinte. 

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illustrent  la  mAthoda. 


1 

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1 

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5 

6 

LEAVING  HOMB. 
"  IIo  turned  and  gazod  upon  the  dear  scenea  of  Iiis  childhood."    rage  26. 


French  Exiles 


OF 


LOUISIANA. 


BY 


J.  T.  LINDSAY, 
Author  of  "Log  Cabin  Days  of  Illinois,"  Etc. 


NEW   YORK: 

W.    B.    SMITH,    &   CO., 

Bond  Street. 


Copyright,  i88i, 
Ihr  W.  B.  Smith  &  Co.,  New  York 

ALL  RIGHTS  RESERVEIX 

■m 


f-  •       t*' 


■.* 


f      • 


TO 

Every  Friend  of  Liberty, 

TO    EVERY    FRIEND    OF    HUMANITY, 

TO    EVERY    HEART   WHO    HAIH   COMPASSION 

FOR   THE  SORROWS  AND   MISFORTUNES  OF   MANKIND^ 

TO  EVERY  ONE  WHO  HATH  CHARITY  FOR  OTHERS, 

TIU8  BOOK  IS  MOST  RESPECTFULLY  INSCRIBED 

BY  THE  AUTHOR. 


PRi 


.'  ■  r^ 


M.VV.  History  Dept. 


54402 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 


Leaving  Home  (In  the  Alps), 
The  Execution  (View  of  Leghorn,   Italy),  . 
Uncle  Louis  Reading  Paul's  Letter,      . 
The  Insane  Count's  Return. 

"  •  •  • 

Achilles  Murat  makes  Himself  Known  in  Louisiana, 

6 


Taoe. 

2 
123 
191 
213 
229 


t. 


CONTENTS. 


ri     . 


Treface,  . 


T.     Paul  Lorraine, 
II.     Gune, 


I.     Marengo, 
II.     Dcsuix, 


BOOK   I. 


BOOK  II. 


BOOK  III. 


Page. 
9 


I.  Italy,  .... 

II.  The  Insane  Count, 

III.  Lady  Verono, 

IV.  The  Flower  Girl, 

BOOK   IV. 

I.  Paul  and  Annetta, 

II.  Prussia  joins  the  Kings, 


I.    Jena, 


IJOOK  V. 

•  •  • 

BOOK  VI. 
VILANI   PALACE. 


I.     A  merciful  King,  .... 

II.    Count  Vilani,       •  .  .  .  , 

s         BOOK  VII. 
I.    Iphi  Betrayed,     ..... 
II.     Louis  Dejon,       ..... 

III.  The  Siren  and  Victim,     .... 

IV.  The  Voice  from  behind  the  Tapestry,   . 

V.     Midnight  Hour,   ..... 
VI.    The  Two  Sacks  of  Gold, 
VII.     Geno  Makes  Joseph  promise  to  return  the  Gold, 

>  ,  .         BOOK   VIIL    . 

MUTINY.         . 


I.     "  I  Knew  not  what  I  did,' 
II.    The  Arrest, 


:  'i 


30 
35 


39 
42 

44 

47 


S3 
57  ^ 


(7) 


60 


64 
69 


78 
80 
88 
90 
96 

99 
103 


.  106 

.  108 


HI 


8 


CONTENTS. 


- 

Page. 

III. 

Gcno,        .            .            .           .           , 

.    Ill 

IV. 

Murat,  King  of  Naples,  .            . 

.    IIS 

V. 

The  Sentence,      .            .            .           , 

.    117 

VI. 

Farewell,  .... 

.    119 

VII. 

The  Execution,    . 

BOOK  IX. 

.    122 

9 

I. 

Tribunal  of  Justice,         .            . 

.    126 

II. 

The  I3ecgar,         .            .            .            -, 

.    129 

III. 

A  Blessing,           .            .            .            . 

.    130 

IV. 

Ambition's  Triumph,      .            .           i 

.    134 

V. 

Alonzo,     .            .            .            .       '     « 

.    140 

I. 


I. 

II. 

III. 

IV. 

V. 

VI. 

VII. 

vm. 


I. 

II. 

III. 

IV. 


I. 

II. 

III. 

IV. 


I. 
II. 


I. 


BOOK   X. 

LOUISIANA. 

Captairv  Ethan  Allen  Smith, 

BOOK   XI. 

The  Sacks  of  Gold,       ^ 

Alonzo  on  Trial  for  the  Murder  of  Francisco  Vilani, 

I  told  Vou  So,      ..... 

The  Insane  Count  again. 

Where  the  Gold  came  from. 

Remorse,  ...... 

The  Good  Angel,  .... 

Francisco  and  Calvetti, .... 

BOOK  XII. 

Murat,      .  .  ... 

Sad  Memories,    ..... 
Paul's  Letter  to  Uncle  Louis,    . 
Religion  and  Government, 

BOOK  xin. 

The  Exiles,  ..... 

Louisiana,  ...  . 

"  By  Jingo  —  Let'"  ^ake  a  Drink," 
Francisco,  ... 

BOOK  XIV. 

The  Flower  Girl  again,  ,  . 

Captain  Ethan  Smith,    .... 

BOOK  XV. 
THE  STRANGER. 
«•  Tis  Strange,  Because  'tis  True," 


144 


169 
171 

174 
179 

181 


184 
184 
186 
193 


199 
200 
205 
207 


212 
220 


231 


>.  i 


PREFACE. 


Tynnny  doth  justice  spurn. 
Transforms  a  vase  into  an  urn ; 
Thanks,  thatlrom.  the  blood  of  hero  ilain, 
Liberty  springs  to  life  again. 

TuK  People  vs.  The  King. 

The  Duke  of  Wellington  cost  England,  in  the  shape  of  pay,  pen- 
sions,  etc.,  the  sum  of  fourteen  millions  of  dollars.  The  parliamentary 
returns  of  March  23,  1847,  give  the  annual  direct  cost  of  royalty  in 
England,  the  enormous  sum  of  three  millions  eight  hundred  and  forty- 
five  thousand  eight  hundred  and  twenty-flve  dollars.  The  whole 
landed  estate  of  England  is  in  the  hands  o^  thirty  thousand  proprie- 
tors; Scotland,  three  thousand;  Ireland,  about  six  thousand.  The 
lands  belong  to  the  aristocratic  class,  and  are  nearly  exempt  from 
taxation.  In  the  report  of  1847,  the  whole  amount  of  land  tax  in 
Great  Britain,  was  the  sum  of  five  millions  nine  hundred  and  fifteen 
thousand  dollars,  while  the  merchants,  farmers,  and  the  industrial 
classes,  of  every  description,  paid  the  sum  of  two  htmdred  and  forty- 
seven  millions  one  hundred  and  sixty  thousand  dollars.  In  the  above 
sum  of  money  that  is  required  to  support  royalty,  there  is  an  item  of 
over  one  million  of  dollars  for  the  private  purse  of  the  Queen. 

A  verse  from  the  national  song  of  England  : 

God  save  the  king! 
Send  him  victorious. 
Soon  to  reign  over  us ;  - 

God  save  the  king  1 

There  are  two  chapters  in  the  history  of  England  that  present  two 
pictures.  The  one  is  full  of  joy,  the  other  sorrow.  The  one  relates 
that  on  the  19th  of  October,  A.  D.,  1781,  Lord  Comwallis,  comman- 
der of  the  King's  army,  now  engaged  in  suppressing  the  rebellion  in 


xo 


PREFACE. 


his  majesty's  American  colonies,  was  compelled,  by  unavoidable  acci- 
dents,  to  surrender  the  army  to  a  certain  rebel,  called  George  Wash- 
ington, assisted  in  his  disgraceful  disloyalty  to  his  King,  by  a  certain 
Frenchman,  called  Lafayette.  That  was  glad  tidings  to  man ;  that 
was  the  birth-day  of  the  grandest  Republic  ever  established  for  man- 
kind. What  a  priceless  inheritance  Is  here  transmitted  to  us,  and  in 
our  keeping  for  posterity.  Let  the  toiling  millions  of  our  beloved 
land  remember,  that  it  is  far  easier  to  lose  liberty  than  to  win  it  back 
from  the  clutches  of  despotism,  by  revolution. 

The  other  chapter  is  mournful.  Napoleon,  trusting  to  the  generos- 
ity of  the  British  nation,  placed  himself  on  an  English  vessel.  On 
his  arrival,  he  asKed  of  the  prince  regent  the  privilege  of  residing  in 
England,  under  the  protection  of  their  laws.  He  was  not  even  al- 
lowed to  land,  or  to  have  any  communication  with  the  people  on 
shore,  but  was  banished,  imprisoned  on  a  small  rocky  island,  far 
away  in  the  South  Atlantic  ocean. 

In  the  year  1847,  the  land  tax  of  France  was  one  hundred  and  six- 
teen millions  of  dollars,  against  five  millions  in  England,  the  same 
year.  The  industrial  class  of  England  paid  a  tax  that  year  amount- 
ing to  the  sum  of  two  hundred  and  forty-seven  millions  of  dollars. 
While  the  industry  of   France  paid  only  eighty-seven  millions. 

A  verse  from  the  French  national  anthem : 

"Oh  Liberty,  can  man  resign  thee  — 
Once  having  felt  thy  generous  flame  ? 
Can  dungeons,  locks,  and  bars  confine  theSi 
Or  whip  thy  noble  spirit  tame  ? 
Too  long  the  world  has  wept,  iiewailing 
That  Falsehood's  dagger  tyrants  wield, 
But  Freedom  is  our  sword  and  shield. 
And  all  their  arts  are  unavailing. 

To  arms  I  To  arms !  Ye  brave. 

Th'  avenging  sword  unsheath. 

March  on,  march  on,  all  hearts  resolved 

On  liberty  or  death." 

May,  A.  D.,  1800.  It  was  in  a  high  degree  fitting  that  Napoleon 
should  have  inaugurated  his  grand  triumph  in  the  cause  of  peace, 
liberty  and  self-government  in  the  very  dawn  of  the  nineteenth  cen- 
tury. A  century  that  up  to  1879,  ^^  been  marked  by  so  many  glori- 
ous achievements  in  civilization  —  crowned  with  many  victories  of 


>'' 


n'^(B^^^' 


M  . 


nUiFACE. 


II 


peace  —  marked  improvement  in  all  the  branches  of  useful  industry, 
laws,  and  government.  The  area  of  free  thought  and  free  speech  has 
been  vastly  enlarged,  with  the  almost  universal  recognition  of  the 
right  of  self-government  in  man. 

The  poet  has  given  us  new  songs,  filled  with  pathos,  beauty,  .ind 
grandeur.  The  architect,  sculpto/,  and  painter,  have  all  given  a  new 
splendor  even  to  their  renascent  work  from  the  old  masters  of 
antiquity. 

The  crowned  hcids  of  England  and  Austria,  with  their  nobles,  and 
that  unseen  but  omnipotent  power  behind  the  throne,  well  named  the 
"  almighty  doU.ir,"  united  together  in  a  cruel,  unjust,  and  unholy  alii- 
ance,  to  crush  out  of  France  this  glorious  love  of  liberty  and  self- 
government. 

In  justice  it  should  be  said  that  the  noble  industrial  classes  of  bc<ll) 
England  and  Austria  had  no  sympathy  with  these  tyrannical  acts  per- 
petrated against  France.  But  such  are  the  crimes  of  des;  )tism. 
The  people  are  hopeless  and  helpless.  This  despotism  not  mly  ex- 
acts the  fruits  of  toi'.  1>u'  demands  the  blood  of  their  sons  to  main- 
tain the  Ihrice-accurscd  doctrine  that  God  has  appointed  the  kiiij,,  to 
rule  and  rob. 

Kngland  said  to  the  American  colonies,  "accept  a  king."    Patriotic 

hearts  answered,  — 

•'  The  Star-Spangled  banner,  long  may  it  wave, 
'  O'er  the  land  of  the  free,  and  the  home  of  the  brave." 

Kngland  and  Austria  said  to  France :  "  accept  a  Bourbon  king ; " 
and  patriotic  hearts  answered:  "To  arms,  to  arms,  ye  brave;  the 
avenging  sword  iinsheath." 

In  March,  1S79,  when  writing  these  lines,  a  correspondent  of  the 
"New  V'ork  Herald  "  writes  from  Paris  this,  —  "France  has  estab- 
lished a  Republic.  Paris  is  all  ablaze  with  enthusiasm.  Bands  of 
Americans  are  parading  the  streets,  singing  the  Star-Spangled  Ban- 
ner, while  bands  of  Frenchmen  are  singing  the  Marseillaise." 

It  is  grander  by  far  to  write  the  songs  of  a  people,  than  to  write 
their  laws. 

The  foundation  of  all  governments  are  the  producing  classes,  and 
commerce  that  distributes  the  products  of  industry,  either  of  hand  or 
brain,  to  places  where  they  are  wanted.  It  matters  not  whether  des- 
potism springs  from  the  royalty  of  kings,  exacting  almost  countless 


191 


12 


PREFACE. 


sums  of  money,  to  maintain  its  wanton  ..  xtravagance,  or  from  the 
unjust  exactions  of  a  concentrated  money  power,  it  falls  with  crush- 
ing weight  upon  the  shoulders  of  industry. 

The  well-to-do  portion  of  the  government  foundation  can  endure 
for  some  time,  but  the  poorer  classes  of  labor  are  soon  driven  to 
despair.  Then  there  is  in  the  very,  vitals  of  the  nation  a  smothered 
and  concealed  volcano;  a  spark  is  communicated,  then  follows  wide- 
spread ruin  and  desolation.  The  despair  that  is  produced  by  the 
pangs  of  starvation  knows  nj  law. 

In  the  spring  of  1792  some  French  soldiers,  who  had  determined 
to  strike  for  liberty,  said  this  to  one  another,  "  We  love  France ;  we 
wiH  die  for  her ;  but  where  is  the  inspired  one  who  can  put  our  enthu- 
siasm in  glowing  words  to  move  the  soul  ? "  Little  did  they  think 
that  in  their  very  midst  was  the  inspired  one  who  would  write  the 
song  that  would  make  his  name  immortal  on  earth. 

Roget  de  Lisle,  a  soldier  in  the  ranks,  went  to  his  chamber,  and 
there  alone  in  the  solitary  midnight  hour,  sang  to  himself  the  grand 
Marseillaise  hymn,  that  moved  the  heart  of  every  man  that  loved 
human  liberty  with  inspiration.  Across  the  sea  in  our  own  land  it 
was  answered  with  joy  by  our  own  inspired  song  of  the  "  Star-Span- 
gled  Banner." 

Six  hundred  brave  men,  half  fed,  half  clothed,  half  armed,  in  the 
revolution  of  '92,  started  from  Marseilles  and  marched  to  Paris, 
singing  the  grand  hymn,  confronted  the  armed  legions  of  despotism, 
acceptetl  a  glorious  death  in  the  cause  of  liberty  with  De  Lisle's  song 
upon  their  lips. 

There  are  times  when  despotism  drives  the  friends  of  liberty  to 
despair,  and  the  infernal  is  invoked. 

Jlobespierre  was  the  most  mysterious  character  in  French  history. 
The  most  of  his  life  was  spent  in  eloquent,  stirring  appeals  in  favor 
of  the  mercit'ul  abolishment  of  the  death  penalty  for  all  offences  or 
crimes.  It  is  said,  his  writings  and  speeches  were  so  brilliant  and 
powerful,  that  ihey  gave  him  great  prominence.  What  a  ghastly  ending 
for  such  an  exalted  beginning.  When  in  power,  he  caused  the  guillo- 
tine to  run  a  stream  of  blood.  The  innocent  perished  with  the  guilty. 
Friends  perished  with  foe  ;  decrepit  old  age  and  tender  infancy  died 
together.  To  be  suspected  by  the  monster  was  to  die.  A  peasant 
girl  was  heard  humming  a  song  in  praise  of  the  Queen,  and  Wv;.5  put 
to  death. 


m 


till 


-^  / 


PREFACE, 


13 


The  National  Convention  closed  its  blood-stained  career  forever. 
The  reign  of  terror  was  ended.  If  France  has  shown  great  virtues, 
she  has  also  been  the  theatre  of  great  crimes.  Her  kings  had  been 
cruel  to  the  children  of  the  people.  The  people  turned  and  put  to 
death  the  children  of  the  kings.  In  the  name  of  liberty  the  Conven- 
tion had  committed  countless  crimes,  clothed  in  the  garb  of  virtue ; 
the  guillotine  was  the  shrine  of  their  idolatry.  While  the  ensign  of 
man's  equality  was  unfurled  in  the  halls  of  the  Convention,  the 
guillotine  was  behind  the  splendid  image  of  liberty,  where  stood  the 
executioner  with  axe  in  hand  to  put  to  death  alike  the  guilty  or  inno- 
cent victims  of  his  master.  These  scenes  were  too  terrible  .  to  last. 
Mercy  could  no  longer  endure  the  sight  of  the  tears  of  pleading 
innocence.  The  cry  of  anguish  that  went  up  from  the  stricken  people 
was  heard  by  the  Infinite,  and  Robespierre,  the  grand  central  figure 
of  this  ghastly  picture,  fell  a  victim  to  the  wrath  of  the  fiend  he  had 
evoked.  The  National  Convention  had  passed  out  of  existence,  the 
Council  and  Directory  appeared  in  their  stead,  and  in  the  horizon 
appeared  the  man  of  destiny  standing  at  the  portals  of  the  nineteenth 
century  with  the  avenging  sword.  The  twilight  of  the  eighteenth 
century  laid  Robespierre  in  the  grave. .  The  dawn  of  the  nineteenth 
said  to  the  grand  captain  ol  self-government,  come.  The  close  of  the 
last  century  placed  Robespierre  on  the  guillotine.  The  beginning  of 
the  present  placed  Napoleon  at  the  foot  of  the  Alps  with  sixty 
thousand  brave  men  to  strike  for  peace  and  liberty,  for  their  beloved 

France. 

Napoleon. 

The  Council  and  Directory,  now  in  power,  organized  three  grand 
divisions  of  the  army.  The  division  that  was  to  cross  the  Alps  and 
conquer  Italy  was  placed  under  the  command  of  Napoleon.  But 
recently  the  author  was  reading  a  description  of  Julius  Caesar.  When 
he  sought  dominion  he  believed  that  he  was  led  by  destiny.  He  left 
behind  him  an  exact  account  of  his  battles  from  day  to  day.  These 
commentaries  form  a  large  fund  of  authentic  history,  and  are  uni- 
versally admired  for  their  elegance  of  style.  He  was  courageous, 
self-possessed,  clement,  and  generous.  Although  he  was  slender  and 
delicate  in  make,  he  was  able  to  make  long  marches,  seldom  stopped 
for  repose  —  sleeping  on  the  way  in  a  litter  or  chariot.  As  a  general 
he  was  equal  to  the  greatest  commander  the  world  ever  produced ; 


I 


iiii 


:i4 


PI^EFACE, 


indeed  there  was  iid  one  that  could  hardly  be  compared  to  him,  ex- 
cept, perhaps,  Hannibal.  As  an  orator  he  was  second  alone  to 
Cicero.  In  his  personal  appearance  he  was  commanding,  with  an 
open  countenance,  fair  complexion,  line  dark  eyes,  and  said  to  be  the 
hanilsonicst  man  in  Rome.  I  was  forcibly  impressed  with  the  re- 
semblance this  picture  bears  to  Napoleon.  He  believed  that  he  was 
in  tlie  hands  nf  destiny.  His  writings,  his  letters  and  orders,  were 
universally  aihnircd  for  their  brevity  and  force,  also  for  their  elegance 
of  style.  He  was  courageous,  self-jiosscssed,  clement,  and  generous. 
He  was  slender  in  make,  and  never  stopped  in  his  marches  for  re- 
pose, sleeping  on  the  way  in  his  carriage.  Indeed,  I  think  it  was 
said  of  him  that  he  could  sleep  while  sitting  on  his  horse,  and  could 
sleep  at  any  time  He  desired.  As  a  general  he  has  no  equal  in 
niotkrn  history ;  as  an  orator  no  man  could  utter  great  truths  and 
s]ilendid  thouglits  with  more  force  and  clo(|uencc  than  Najioleon. 
In  his  [lersonal  apjieavance  lie  was  commanding,  with  an  open  coun- 
tenance, fair  complexion,  line  large  dark  eyes,  and  was  exceedingly 
handsome.  There  was  this  difference.  Napoleon  had  a  much 
grander  field  of  action  than  Caesar ;  his  triumphs  were  by  far  more 
brilliant,  and  had  a  much  greater  effect  on  the  destiny  of  man.  He 
laid  the  foundation  of  a  freedom  of  thought  and  speech  that  is  des- 
tined, in  the  course  of  time,  to  redeem  ;U1  Europe  from  despotism. 
( )iie  of  the  fust  acts  of  The  Council  of  !•  ranee,  when  placed  in  leg- 
islative power,  was  to  projjose  |)eace  with  England  and  Austria, 
or  otherwise  to  let  France  have  peace,  and  the  divine  right  of  the 
l)eo])lc  to  establish  for  themselves  a  republican  government.  They 
refused  to  comply  with  this  just  demand.  What  untold,  unnum- 
bered blessings  of  peace,  happiness,  and  prosperity  would  have 
been  brought  to  the  working  classes  of  these  three  nations  if  this 
demand  had  been  grant eil  !  At  the  close  of  the  Napoleonic  war, 
England  had  her  people  burthened  with  a  tax  of  over  four  thousand 
millions  of  dollars,  anil  millions  of  lives  lost,  the  value  of  which  can- 
not be  measured  by  dollars  and  cents.  For  what?  To  make  the 
workingmen  of  France  accept  a  Bourbon  for  a  king.  Why  did 
England  and  Austria  want  P'rance  to  endure  the  despotism  of  a 
king  ?  The  answer  is  tl  .  France,  under  a  republican  government, 
with  her  great  genius  in  all  the  departments  of  industry,  would  have 
been  so  prosperous,  so  hap[Ty,  and   the  people  so  powerfid   in  the 


!li 


f  I 


PREFAC'E. 


IS 


triumphs  of  peace  and  liberty, 'that  every  throne  and  crown  in  Europe' 
would  be  in  danger  from  such  a  grand  example  of  self-government. 
Thus  it  was  that  at  the  beginning  of  this  century  Englaiid  and  Aus- 
tria taxed  their  workingmen  money,  and  demanded  of  them  the  blood 
of  their  sons,  to  prevent  the  workingmen  in  France  from  enjoying 
the  fruits  of  their  own  labor  and  the  blessings  of  peace  and  liberty. 

On  the  6th  day  of  May,  1800,  an  army  of  sixty  thousand  men  were 
assembled  at  the  foot  of  the  Alps.  They  were  to  cross  at  three 
different  points.  Napoleon  was  with  the  main  body  of  the  army  that 
crossed  at  the  great  St.  Bernard.  These  soldiers  were  composed 
largely  of  Swiss  and  Alpine  French  mountaineers.  Paul  Lorraine 
was  an  adept  in  climbing  the  mountain  cliffs ;  it  was  a  part  of  his 
early  education,  — -indeed,  it  was  so  with  two-'hirds  of  the  entire 
force,  —  and  hence  the  perfect  success  of  this  wonderful  march,  that 
astonished  the  civilized  world  with  its  brilliant  intrepidity. 

The  Austrians,  hearing  for  the  first  time  of  the  ambitious  designs 
of  Napoleon  to  cross  the  Alps,  treated  it  with  scorn  and  contcmjit. 
The  Swiss,  the  mountain  French,  and  the  highland  Scotch  are  alike 
remarkable  ioi  their  love  of  home  and  their  love  of  liberty.  They 
seem  to  love  their  homes  for  their  dangers.  Their  hard  struggles 
with  a  sterile  soil  gives  them  health,  courage,  and  manhood.  They 
breathe  the  free,  pure  air  of  the  mountain  cliffs,  and  look  with  dis- 
dain on  those  who  dwell  on  the  lowlands,  as  minions  of  arbitrary 
power  and  despotism.  The  terrors  of  the  glacier  and  avalanche  to 
them  is  enchantment.  Go  where  they  will,  and  their  memory  clings 
fondly  to  these  mountain  homes.  The  Highlander  rushed  proudly  to 
the  call  of  his  chieftain  to  die  in  defence  of  the  barren  rocks.  The 
Swiss  in  distant  lands,  in  memory  hears  the  melody  of  the  Alpine 
horn,  and  the  tears  unbidden  flow.  Such  an  army  with  such  a  com- 
mander, and  battling  for  such  a  cause  was  sure  to  triumph. 

You  would  say  to  one  of  these  soldiers,  "Can  you  cross  the  Alps 
with  those  heavy  guns,  carriages,  food,  and  ammunition  .••  It  is  not 
possible ! "  He  would  say,  "  Why,  it  is  nothing.  See,  we  can  go 
single  along  the  glaciers,  and  most  of  the  time  double  and  treble  ; 
we  will  haul  the  guns  on  sleds,  and  pack  the  carriages  on  mules ; 
we  can  carry  some  provisions  j  we  will  cut  our  pathway  with  axes 
out  of  the  ice.  If  there  comes  a  storm,  and  loosens  the  avalanche, 
or  starts  the  glacier,probably  we  sh^Il  be  lost"  You  would  say  again, 


x6 


PREFACE. 


*'  When  you'get  into  Italy,  you  will  meet  the  greatest  anny  in  Europe, 
veteran  troops  that  have  ever  been  victorious."  He  would  say, "  True, 
but  we  have  conquered  nature  and  the  Alps,  and  surely  now  we 
need  not  fear  man." 

On  the  i6th  of  May  the  grand  army  broke  forth  with  the  strains 
of  the  Marseilles  hymn,  and  the  march  commenced.  Soon  St.  Pierre 
was  reached  and  the  road  ended.  Heroic  band,  march  on,  march 
on  I  You  have  with  you  the  man  chosen  by  destiny  to  vindicate  the 
eternal  principles  of  justice  and  liberty. 

The  Alps,  monarch  of  the  mystic  realm,  seated  above  the  Olympic 
Jove  of  ancient  days.  To  mortal  man  on  earth's  lower  plains,  thy 
throne  is  placed  among  the  stars.  What  earthly  king  can  vie  with 
thee,  in  lofty,  peerless  majesty.  How  vast  thy  power  1  the  dark 
abyss  thy  dungeon  and  thy  prison  keep.  Thy  army  the  mighty 
glacier  that  grinds  to  powder  the  massive  granite  hills.  The  ava- 
lanche that  with  one  fell  sweep  could  send  armed  battalions  to  an 
icy  grave.  Let  loose  the  winds,  the  tempest,  and  the  mountain 
storms ;  as  well  might  man  face  the  anger  of  Ooinipotence.  Mystic 
spirit  of  the  mountain,  around  thy  throne  appears  thy  vast  empire  I 
Ancient  Rome  still  sitting  on  her  hills — the  throne  of  Caesar  van- 
ished. Sons  of  Rome  siUl  dwell  amidst  her  vine-clad  hills  and 
fertile  valleys,  and  her  opulent  cities,  proud  of  ancient  fame  and 
historic  memories.  There  is  Greece,  still  mourning  over  fallen 
Athens  and  the  tomb  of  Demosthenes.  Far  away  in  the  distance 
rolls  the  waves  of  the  classic  sea  that  has  borne  on  her  bosom  the 
commerce  of  forty  centuries.  There  is  the  vast  empire  of  the  Czar, 
still  waiting  for  the  sick  man's  death,  to  grasp  his  Crescent  crown. 
Here  is  dismembered  Poland,  still  mourning  for  her  exiled  sons,  and 
decking  with  flowers  the  tombs  of  her  heroic  dead.  There  the 
German,  who  in  olden  times  crushed  the  grandest  empire  of  antiq- 
uity. Yonder  the  islands  of  the  proud  Briton,  mistress  of  the  seas, 
forging  chains  for  France.  Here  is  chivalrous  Spain ;  she  who  dis- 
covered a  new  world ;  and  the  land  of  the  renowned  Cid,  the  formi- 
dable foe  of  the  powerful  Moor.  There  is  France  pleading  for  peace 
and  liberty.  Cruelly  she  has  been  betrayed  into  the  hands  of  her 
enemies.  In  olden  times,  when  history  commenced.  Omnipotence 
rolled  back  the  waves  of  the  sea,  and  the  children  of  Israel  passed 
out  of  the  land  oi  bondage  into  the  land  of  promise.    The  monarch 


PREFACE. 


17 


of  the  mystic  realm  stayed  the  glacier,  fastened  the  avalanche, 
bridged  the  abyss,  silenced  the  storm ;  and  the  Man  of  Destiny  passed 
unharmed  in  this  march  of  triumph  in  the  cause  of  liberty.  It  is 
not  strange  that  Napoleon,  like  unto  Caesar,  believed  in  destiny. 
That  his  fate  was  in  the  hands  of  some  unseen,  mysteriousi  power  he 
could  neither  control  or  resist 


French  Exiles  of  Louisiana. 


BOOK   I 


I. 


Paul  Lorraine.         -         \.  "  . 

In  Provence,  France,  on  the  road  from  Digne  to  Brian- 
9on,  well  up  towards  the  mountains,  there  is  a  little  valley 
that  has  been  occupied  by  a  few  families  in  succession,  for 
generation  after  generation,  for  centuries.  This  remote 
and  sequestered  spot  the  traveller  would  name  the  Vale 
of  Peace.  Yet  ^var  had  reached  out  its  arm  and  grasped 
vic<^ims  for  carnage.      -  -  '  ^ 

Jarvis  Lorraine,  an  old  resident,  had  fallen,  while  in  the 
army  of  the  Convention,  at  the  siege  of  Toulon.  Widow 
Lorraine  is  now  dwolling  with  her  son  in  that  humble 
cottage  by  the  road-side.  It  is  flanked  by  a  gentle, 
sloping  hill,  covered  with  a  flourishing  vineyard.  The 
sun  sets  behind  this  hill,  and  there  the  first  shadows 
of  evening  fall.  The  vines  rejoice  however,  in  the  first 
beams  of  morning  light,  then  they  have  the  noonday  sun. 
This  is  a  good  arrangement,  as  the  culture  of  the  vine 
requires  above  all  things  the  sunlight,  and  plenty  of  fresh 
air  to  breathe.  This  keeps  from  the  vineyard  that  terrible 
scourge,  the  black  rot,  and  to  a  great  extent  the  ravages 
of  that  parasite,  the  moth. 

19 


^      « 


! 


Ill 


20 


EXILES   OF  LOUISIANA. 


The  cottage  was  covered  with  creepers  and  vines. 
Across  the  way  was  a  small  pasture  field,  where  some 
cows,  pigs,  and  sheep,  were  feeding  on  the  rich  pasture. 
Everything  about  this  humble  abode  had  the  appearance 
of  neatness  and  industry. 

Mother  Lorraine,  as  she  was  called,  lived  here  with  her 
son  Paul,  in  apparent  peace  and  contentment.  The  in- 
habitants of  the  valley,  called  her  "mother"  from  the 
promptings  of  genuine  affection. 

This  humble  woman  in  lowly  life,  had  an  abiding  faith 
in  the  goodness  of  the  Infinite,  and  that  in  the  end  all 
would  be  well.  The  atheist,  perched  upon  his  intellectual 
throne,  proud  of  his  genius,  and  power  to  give  even  vice 
the  appearance  of  virtue,  would  scoff  at  this  faith  —  call 
it  credulity,  ignorance,  superstition.  Yet  it  cheered  this 
poor  woman  in  the  hours  of  her  greatest  bereavement. 
To  the  most  of  those  who  may  not  trust  in  divine  revela- 
tion, it  is  a  mystery  they  cannot  altogether  grasp  or  com- 
prehend. It  found  expression  alike  in  the  last  hours 
of  the  great  Webster,  and  the  dying  slave,  when,  afar 
off  among  the  stars,  he  saw  with  faith  a  land  of  promise, 
where  there  was  neither  tears  or  bondage. 

Not  far  from  Mother  Lorraine  lived  her  brother-in-law 
Louis,  enjoying  about  the  same  advantages  in  this  world's 
goods  as  his  brother's  widow,  with  two  sons  to  help  him 
in  the  cares  and  labors  of  his  p/ace. 

Across  the  road  near  the  warbling  mountain  brook, 
that  came  down  from  the  hill,  was  the  home  of  Pierre 
Gerald  and  wife,  with  their  daughter,  Annetta.  The  top 
of  the  little  cottage  can  just  be  seen  over  the  spur  of  a 
sharp  hill  that  springs  out  into  the  valley  from  thr;  moun* 
tain. 


tiiii^' 


PAUL  LORRAINE. 


ax 


This  valley  was  the  birthplace  of  Paul,  and  at  the  time 
he  was  drafted  in  the  army  of  the  Alps  he  was  about  nine- 
teen years  of  age.  To  have  seen  this  peasant  boy  toiling 
in  the  vineyard,  with  his  homespun  blouse,  you  never 
would  have  dreamed  that  his  life  was  to  be  one  of  such 
strange  events.  He  was  everybody's  friend.  The  children 
of  the  valley  looked  upon  him  as  a  kind  of  divinity.  A 
little  child  slipped  from  the  top  of  a  steep  crag,  lodged 
on  the  roots  and  limbs  of  a  scraggy  pine  growing  out 
from  the  side  of  the  ledge.  What  was  to  be  done  ?  The 
cliff  was  a  perpendicular  rock  two  hundred  feet  from  its 
base  to  the  place  where  the  imperilled  child  was  lodged. 
Paul  was  called  for  consultation.  Paul  was  of  light  build, 
but  strong,  active,  and  muscular,  noble  hearted  and  full  of 
courage.  He  says,  the  child  must  be  saved.  His  mountain 
pick  was  in  his  hand.  He  passed  up  to  the  top  of  the  hill 
where  the  child  had  fallen.  Soon,  and  the  anxious  ones  who 
had  gathered  there,  —  among  the  rest  the  mother  of  the  child, 
—  looking  up  at  the  heroic  youth  so  prompt  to  save  the  life 
of  her  dear  one,  saw  him  strike  his  axe  into  the  crevice  of  the 
rock,  swing  down  on  a  lower  ledge,  pass  along  some  distance 
from  the  object  of  the  daring  task.  Again  he  returns  on 
a  lower  shelf  of  the  rock,  and  is  now  standing  immediately 
beneath  the  child.  Soon,  and  his  mountain  axe  is  fast- 
ened in  the  roots  of  the  projecting  tree ;  he  draws  himself 
up,  and  the  child  is  in  the  strong  arms  of  the  daring  boy. 
There  was  one  in  that  assembly  of  anxious  lookers-on, 
that  witnessed  the  event  with  as  much  joy  as  the  mother 
of  the  child.  It  was  Annetta.  Paul  was  her  idol.  A 
smile  of  joy  was  on  that  sweet,  pure  face,  so  guileless  and 
innocent.  She  said,  "  Fear  not  for  Paul,  he  is  so  good  and 
brave,  surely  no  harm  can  come  to  him."    A  rope  was 


•fl 


EXILES   OF  LOUISIANA, 


1! 


passed  down  to  Paul,  fastened  around  his  waist,  he  threw 
his  axe  from  him  and  was  hauled  up  to  the  summit  ot  the 
hill.  The  child  was  soon  in  the  mother's  arms.  Heroic 
boy  !  How  blessed  for  this  world,  were  it  filled  with  such 
hearts  as  thine ! 

At  another  time  a  horse  ran  away  with  a  little  boy,  and 
was  dashing  furiously  down  the  slope  of  the  hill  on  the 
road.  At  the  foot  of  the  hill  the  road  made  a  sudden  turn 
to  avoid  a  deep  ravine.  There  was  some  little  barrier  to 
prevent  accidents,  but  this  little  fellow  was  unable  to 
control  the  horse  so  as  to  make  the  turn  and  avoid  the 
precipice.  Paul  chanced  to  be  near  this  bend  in  the  road. 
He  saw  the  terrible  danger  that  threatened  the  life  of  the 
boy.  He  planted  himself  in  front  of  the  dashing  animal, 
not  far  from  the  precipice.  It  appeared  that  the  fright- 
ened brute  was  unable  himself  to  chanf,e  his  headlong 
course  from  a  direct  one.  It  looked  as  if  the  horse  would 
pass  over  Paul  and  trample  him  to  pieces.  When  he 
came  very  near,  Paul  gave  him  a  little  berth,  seized  the 
boy,  dragged  him  from  his  back,  and  the  poor  brute 
-plunged  over  the  railing  and  was  dashed  to  pieces  on  the 
rocks  below.  Very  many  such  events  as  this  in  the  youth- 
ful days  of  this  young  hero  gave  him  an  enviable  reputa- 
tion for  courage  and  intrei^idity  far  beyond  his  companions 
and  associates. 

Paul  and  Annelta  had  grown  up  together  here,  in  the 
purity,  love,  and  happiness  of  Eden.  They  say  history 
repeats  itself ;  doubtless  the  sad  story  of  Eden  has  been 
oft  repeated.  Peace,  happiness,  and  contentment,  destroyed 
by  the  wily  serpent,  bearing  with  it  the  knowledge  of  vain, 
idle  pleasures,  their  allurements  that  lead  to  ruin  and 
sorrow.     It    must    have   been    such    lives   as    Paul    and 


PAUL  LORRAINE. 


if 


Annetta's  that  proved  to  the  mind  of  the  great  writer 
on  the  law  of  evidence,  Greenleaf,  that  the  doctrine 
of  absolute  depravity,  or  natural  depravit>',  was  not  to  his 
mind  proven.  He  says  that  a  child  tells  the  truth 
naturally,  and  is  taught  to  lie ;  that  tmth  is  natural,  lying 
artificial.  The  truth  is  easily  told,  and  it  is  very  hard  to 
coin  a  falsehood  that  will  pass  current. 

These  children  of  nature  grew  together  in  virtuous 
simplicity,  never  dreaming  that  the  wide  world  was  full 
of  crime,  sorrow,  and  deceit ;  there  was  nothing  in  their 
thoughts  they  desired  to  conceal.  They  spoke  to  one 
another  in  the  simple  language  of  nature  and  truth. 
They  worked  together  in  the  vineyard,  and  in  the  fields, 
dressed  the  vines,  destroyed  the  weeds,  and  the  para- 
sites, worked  among  the  flowers  and  vegetables,  among 
the  fruit-trees.  Paul  was  an  adept  in  pruning  fruit-trees 
and  grafting,  and  all  the  arts  necessary  to  secure  a  good 
return  for  labor.  They  worked  alternately  on  the  Lorraine 
place  and  on  the  Gerald  place.  Annetta  would  have 
made  a  sorry  figure  in  the  gay,  fashionable  life  of  Paris. 
Yet,  her  heart,  her  mind,  and  that  sweet  smile  that  beamed 
forth  from  her  kind,  quiet  face,  was  full  of  grandeur. 

Paul  would  say  to  Annetta,  "  I  love  you  as  I  love  the 
flowers." 

"Why  Paul?" 

"  Because  they  are  so  beautiful,  so  pure,  like  the  angels 
my  dear  mother  talks  about." 

Annetta  would  say,  "I  do  love  you  so."  - 

"Why,  Annetta?"  " 

"  Because,  Paul,  you  are  so  good,  and  brave,  and  kind." 
Oftentimes  she  would  see  Paul  pass  along  the  verge 
of  the  rocky  cliff  with  the  agility  of  a  mountain  chamois. 


H 


1    • 


i  I 


III: 


•4  EXILES  OF  LOUISIANA. 

She  would  say  to  herself,  "  I  love  him  so,  he  is  so  brave." 
Then  Paul's  constant  care  and  attention  to  the  old  people 
in  the  valley  was  so  considerate  and  generous,  that  he  was 
endeared  to  every  one.  As  Paul  grew  older  he  became 
more  thoughtful,  and  at  times  there  was  a  sad  tone  to 
his  voice  —  perhaps  he  was  thinking  of  his  father  killed  in 
battle  at  the  siege  of  Toulon,  or  perhaps  the  day  was  near 
when  he  would  be  required  to  leave  his  dear  mother, 
Annetta,  and  the  children  of  the  valley. 

Annetta  would  say  to  him,  "  If  you  go  from  us,  you 
will  surely  come  back  to  us,  for  you  are  so  good  and 
brave,  no  harm  can  come  to  you." 

"  Yes,  but  Annetta,  the  good  often  suffer.  Sometimes 
we  hear  of  the  brave  being  put  to  death  unjustly,  and 
I  may  be  killed  in  battle." 

"Yes,"  Annetta  replied  to  him,  "the  good  do  often 
suffer,  but  not  long ;  the  good  angels  find  them  out  and 
lead  them  forth  into  the  sunlighi  and  happiness,  and  then 
courage  will  oftentimes  save  your  life  in  battle." 

Paul  was  cheered  with  the  words  of  this  little  philoso- 
pher, arguing  in  her  simple  way  of  .the  power  there  was  to 
protect  him  from  evil,  by  using  the  armor  of  virtue  and 
courage.  He  was  thinking  that  when  he  was  climbing  the 
lofty  hills,  passing  over  the  snow-clad  glacier  or  the  brow 
of  the  avalanche,  that  without  firmness  and  courage  he 
would  have  been  oftentimes  dashed  into  the  abyss. 

"Annetta,"  he  would  say,  "I  may  go  into  the  army  and 
fall  in  the  battle-tield." 

"  If  you  die  in  the  battle,  fighting  for  our  dear  France, 
how  I  would  love  your  memory,  Paul ;  but  I  would  not 
live  long.  I  would  not  cry  or  mourn,  but  I  would  feel  as 
if  severed  from  earth,  and,  like  the  vine  severed  from  its 


i  ' 


PAUL  LORRAINE, 


•I 


root,  fade,  wither,  and  perish.  I  would  die  and  go  to 
you,  Paul ;  for  surely  the  good  God  would  have  you  in  his 
keeping." 

"  But,  Annetta,  I  would  have  you  live  and  take  care  of 
our  dear  old  parents  and  the  children  in  the  valley.  But  — 
well,  well,  Annetta,  we  will  not  talk  of  these  sad  events.  I 
believe  I  will  come  back  to  you  safe  and  well,  and  I  will 
love  you  all  the  better,  and  together  we  will  take  good  care 
of  our  parents  and  the  little  children,  dress  the  vines, 
climb  the  hills,  gather  fruit,  and  take  good  care  of  our 
cows  and  sheep ;  and  in  the  twilight-hour  sing  our  beauti- 
ful songs  and  be  so  happy." 

At  night  they  would  sit  in  the  cottage  door  and  gaze 
upon  the  stars,  and  wonder  at  their  beauty  and  the  cause 
of  their  creation.  There  was  one  star  that  they  had  se- 
lected for  their  future  home.  When  at  eve  it  sparkled  in 
the  west,  it  received  their  united  love  and  adoration. 

Paul's  educational  advantages  were  limited,  but,  like  his 
race,  both  ancient  nd  modem,  his  perceptions  were  quick. 
The  .Lorraine  family,  many  years  before  this  period,  had 
been  success^d  merchrnts  of  Marseilles.  Misfortune,  per- 
haps, drove  this  branch  of  the  family  into  this  remote 
place.  There  were  some  old  Greek  and  Roman  books 
translated  into  French,  from  which  Paul  had  drawn  a  con- 
siderable fund  of  knowledge.  All  he  knew  of  Napoleon 
was  from  hearsay,  and  Napoleon  lost  nothing,  in  stature  or 
greatness,  from  the  bright  fancy  of  this  French  peasant. 

The  hour  that  formed  the  turning  point  in  the  strange 
life  of  this  interesting  boy  had  been  sounded.  He  was 
ordered  to  join  Napoleon's  aimy,  congregated  at  the  foot 
of  the  Alps,  at  the  Great  St.  Bernard  pass.  He  was  pre- 
pared, for  he  expected  it.    He  was  clothed  in  the  garb  of 


* 


J?4 


EXILES  OF  LOUISIANA, 


a  Fiench  soldier;  was  to  leave  his  kind  mother,  Annetta, 
Uncle  Louis,  and  the  dear  little  children  of  the  valley. 
His  good  mother  felt  sad  over  this  parting.  Sorrow  for 
the  death  of  Paul's  father  had  left  its  bitter  memory.  Yet 
she  bore  up  against  these  sorrows  with  that  strong  faith  and 
assurance  that  God  was  good,  and  in  the  end  would  make 
all  well.     To  her  this  faith  was  an  impenetrable  shield. 

Annetia  was  pale  and  tearless.  Her  faith  was  in  her  idol. 
She  said  this  :  "  I  know  he  is  good  and  brave.  Surely  he 
will  not  be  harmed  by  any  one.  Who  could  harm  such  a 
one }     So  kind  to  all." 

Annetta,  Uncle  Louis,  and  the  children  followed  with 
Paul  far  on  the  way  of  his  departure,  and  then  gazed  after 
him  until  a  bend  in  the  road  carried  him  out  of  sight.  It 
is  the  first  act  in  his  dramatic  life.  He  turned  and  gazed 
upon  the  dear  scenes  of  his  cnildhood.  How  his  heart 
did  cling  to  the  beloved  spot,  so  full  of  sweet  memories. 
His  life  had  been  happy  there  in  his  home,  for  it  had  been 
natural  and  truthful.  To  him  it  was  a  grand  picture.  On 
one  side  the  Alps  towered  up  in  the  sky  in  majesty  and 
grandeur,  its  bosom  veiled  in  the  purest  white,  its  summit 
with  its  pinnacles,  walls,  and  battlements,  with  their  deep 
purple  shadows  and  golden  lights  from  the  rising  sun.  At 
its  ba«c  long  lines  of  dark  green  forests  at  intervals  ran  out 
into  the  valley  then  swept  high  up  to  the  foot  of  some  tall, 
rocky  cliff,  again  rolled  off  into  distance  and  was  lost  to 
sight.  There  was  the  cottage  home,  the  winding  brook, 
still  warbling  along  with  its  cheerful  song,  the  little  fields 
and  vine-clad  hills,  the  winding  road  to  Brian^on,  above 
all,  the  loving  hearts  in  those  humble  abodes.  The  objects 
in  this  world  that  arc  dear  or  pleasing  to  the  eye,  are  vastly 
more  precious  to  us  when  we  are  about  to  part  with  them 


PAUL  LORRAINE. 


or  lose  them.  Your  dear  friend  is  on  his  death-bed.  How 
much  dearer  he  is  to  you  in  the  last  hour.  You  forget  his 
faults ;  and  his  virtues  are  unfolded  to  your  sight  with  ad- 
ditional spl  -idor.  Go  where  you  will,  brave  boy,  and  the 
picture  of  yonder  valley  and  the  loved  ones  who  dwell 
there  will  cling  to  your  memory.  The  impression  will  be 
as  vivid  and  as  bright  as  if  traced  in  line  and  ^coloring  by 
the  hand  of  the  Infinite. 

Aniictta  to  him  was  a  beautiful  being  of  dream-land. 
His  mother,  who  had  been,  in  the  long  years  gone  by,  the 
personification  of  loving  kindness,  rose  up  at  parting  a 
being  possessing  far  more  excellence  than  anything  on 
earth.  To  him  his  good  mother  possessed  something  akin 
to  divinity.  When  she  parted  v/ith  him  she  laid  her  hand 
upon  his  head  and  said,  — 

"  Paul,  my  son,  God  will  bless  you  for  my  sake." 

These  words  he  believed.  He  believed  that  his  mother 
was  merely  a  link  between  him  and  the  unseen  world.  The 
passing  winds  sighed  to  him  a  gentle,  mournful  farewell— 
he  is  .gone. 

The  night  followed  the  day.  The  landscape  smiled. 
The  mountain  brook  still  warbled  its  song.  The  birds 
filled  the  valley  with  channing  melody.  The  sun  poured 
its  golden  light  down  upon  the  peaceful  valley.  All  uncon- 
scious of  the  sad  hearts,  throbbing  in  these  cottage  homes 
—  of  the  humble  peasants. 


Si' 


I 


I'M 


!l 


•8  EXILES  OF  LOUISIANA, 

n. 

Paul's  departure,  was  as  if  a  shadow  had  fallen  on  this 
happy  valley,  and  saddened  every  heart. 

Annetta  came  often  to  see  Mother  Lorraine,  and  comfort 
her  in  the  hours  of  sorrow;  and  together,  they  talked 
fondly  of  the  absent  one  so  dear  to  them. 

Annetta  loved  to  recall  the  many  incidents  that  marked 
Paul's  faithful,  loving  disposition. 

His  lii'e  was  a  part  of  her  life,  for  they  were  like  two 
beautiful,  tender  flowers,  that  had  budded,  and  bloomed 
into  fragrance  and  beauty  on  the  same  stem. 

The  mother  was  doubtless  resting  on  that  promise  that 
flashed  upon  the  cross  at  Calvary.  All  the  sorrows  of 
this  world  could  not  make  her  for  one  moment  waver  in 
her  sublime  faith.  (I  have  no  reasoning  to  offer,  no  logic 
to  bring  forward,  to  prove  that  this  faith  was  not  well 
founded.  I  will  not  undertake  to  argue  with  the  atheist 
or  the  infidel.  If  Divine  Revelation  is  a  failure,  this  myste- 
rious quality  of  the  human  heart  is  beyond  our  grasp  and 
comprehension.  All  I  can  do  is  to  record  the  fact  that 
this  woman's  whole  life  was  a  mission  of  love,  and  self- 
denial.) 

Mother  Lorraine  sacredly  preserved  every  thing  that 
would  bring  to  memory  her  son.  In  a  little  closet  she  had 
his  wooden  shoes,  his  home-spun  blouse,  and  his  hat,  that 
he  wore  in  his  hours  of  toil  —  now  cast  off,  to  be  exchanged 
for  the  dress  of  the  soldier  of  France.  How  good  would 
it  be  for  this  world  if  the  rulers  of  kingdoms,  and  gov- 
ernments, would  walk  in  the  same  paths  of  honor  and 
rectitude,  as  foiowed  by  the  feet  that  filled  those  wooden 
shoes.    How  grand  would  it  be  if  the  robes  of  state  always 


Wfi 


■)  I 


PAUL  LORRAINE. 


29 


covered  a  heart  as  full  of  love,  charity,  and  mercy,  as  had 
throbbed  under  that  faded  blouse.  Oh,  that  kings,  mon- 
archs,  and  presidents,  were  as  willing  to  give  to  honest 
toil,  the  fruits  of  industry,  as  he  whp  wore  that  hat,  instead 
^  kingly  crown. 


<'^    I 


I 


s. 


1 


30 


EXILES    OF  LOUISIANA. 


BOOK    II. 


I. 

Marengo, 


Paul  Lorraine  was  in  the  army  of  Napoleon.  His 
training  as  a  mountaineer  rendered  his  service  in  the 
march  across  the  Alps  of  great  importance.  There  was 
no  peculiar  quality  in  the  most  humble  soldier  in  the  ranks 
that  ever  escaped  the  quick  observation  of  Napoleon. 

Paul's  agility  and  intrepidity  in  climbing  the  rocky  cliffs, 
his  ready  use  of  the  mountain  pick,  in  cutting  pathways  in 
the  glaciers,  his  sound,  good  judgment,  in  the  choice  of 
proper  passages  for  footmen  and  mules,  was  soon  a  matter  of 
observation,  and  he  requested  that  Paul  should  keep  near 
the  guide  who  led  the  mule  upon  which  he  was  seated,  and 
direct  him  in  his  course,  and  make  the  pathway  more 
secure.  On  one  occasion  Napoleon  said  to  Paul,  "  What 
is  your  name?  "  He  answered  promptly,  "  Paul  Lorraine." 
"  Ah,  it  is  a  good  name,  and  if  my  memory  serves  me 
rightly,  belongs  to  Marseilles.  Where  are  you  from,  my 
young  friend  ?  "  "  From  Provence,  sire  ;  not  far  from  Bri- 
an^on.  My  father's  name  was  Jarvis  Lorraine,  sire,  and 
fell  in  the  seige  of  Toulon." 

Napoleon  replied  promptly,  "  Lorraine,  and  fell  at  Tou- 
on.  Ah,  then  you  have  lost  your  best  friend  in  behalf  of 
France,  and  all  that  is  left  to  you  is  your  mother  ?  "  "Yes, 
sire,  that  is  a  good  deal  left ;  my  mother  is  the  kindest  of 


MARENGO. 


3^ 


women.  She  thinks  that  God  requires  her  to  make  these 
sacrifices  in  favor  of  her  countr)',  that  is  so  deeply  injured 
and  wronged  by  other  nations;  and  she  daily  asks  God 
to  protect  France  and  her  defenders." 

"  I  know,  brave  youth,  that  you  love  your  good  mother ; 
have  you  no  other  friends  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sire ;  my  good  Uncle  Louis,  and  Annetta." 

"  Ah,  Annetta ;  who  is  this  Annetta  ? " 

"  Annetta  Gerald,  sire." 

"  She  is  more  than  a  friend  to  you,  Paul,  I  am  thinking  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sire,  I  love  Annetta ;  I  love  her  for  her  virtues. 
She  is  kind  and  good  to  every  one." 

This  plain,  candid  admission  of  his  love  for  Annetta, 
without  the  least  desire  to  conceal  the  secret  of  his  heart, 
and  not  the  least  show  of  false  modesty,  was  very  pleasing 
to  Napoleon. 

"  I  need  not  ask  you,  Paul,  if  Annetta  loves  you }  " 

"  Yes,  sire,  she  loves  me  well ;  and  at  our  parting  she 
said  I  surely  would  come  back  to  her,  for  no  harm 
could  come  to  the  good  and  the  brave ;  and  said  I  might 
fall  in  the  battle-field,  but  if  I  fell  in  defence  of  France 
my  memory  would  be  very  dear  to  her." 

"  Paul,  whenever  you  want  a  friend  apply  to  me." 

Paul  started  off  on  some  duty  he  had  to  perform ;  and 
this  tete-a-tete  was  closed.  It  had  a  very  visible  effect  on 
Napoleon,  and  doubtless  the  conclusion  in  his  mind  was 
that  France,  possessing  such  mothers,  daughters,  and  sons, 
would  surely  triumph  over  her  enemies,  and  in  the  end 
achieve  peace  and  liberty ;  that  surely  the  Infinite  would 
hear  the  prayers  of  these  earnest  souls  calling  for  help  in 
the  hour  of  their  tribulation. 

The  army  is  passing  the  hospital  of  the  great  St.  Ber- 


:  ;i 


|. 


} 

■       I 


32 


EXILES  OF  LOUrSIANA. 


nard.  The  good  monks,  refresh  long  lines  of  soldiers  as 
they  pass,  with  bread,  cheese,  and  wine.  The  hospital  of 
St.  Bernard  is  creditable  to  humanity.  The  g  )od  monks 
pass  their  days  in  this  wild,  wierd  solitude,  to  minister  unto 
suffering  men,  acts  of  mercy  and  charity.  It  is  a  grand 
picture  in  life's  weary  way.  Good  is  it  that  there  are  men 
willing  to  dwell  in  this  bleak,  dreary,  and  desolate  abode ; 
listen  to  the  howling  storm  and  the  wintry  winds ;  go  forth 
into  the  rushing  tempest  of  ice  and  snow  to  save  the  dy- 
ing stranger,  warm  him  into  life,  and  say  to  him,  thou  hast 
paid  us ;  for  charity  pays  him  that  gives,  as  well  as  him  that 
receives.  And  there,  too,  the  noble  dog  of  St.  Bernard, 
goes  forth  amid  the  pelting  storm  and  rushing  winds,  at 
the  midnight  hour,  amidst  the  terrible  danger  of  rock, 
glacier,  and  avalanche,  with  unerring  instinct,  finds  some 
poor  human  soul  who  is  dying  far  away  from  the  loved 
ones  of  home  and  kindred,  takes  him  and  bears  him  along 
through  snow  and  ice,  along  the  rocky  bridge,  past  the 
abyss,  places  him  in  the  hands  of  his  kind  master,  and 
could  he  speak  would  say,  "  warm  him  into  life.  I  found 
him  perishing  and  in  pi^.y  I  brought  him  to  you  to  save." 
Thus  this  brute  is  trained  to  acts  of  kindness  that  would 
add  grandeur  to  the  noblest  acts  of  man.  Far  back  in  my 
early  schoolboy  days,  the  recital  of  the  deeds  of  self- 
denial,  and  the  noble  acts  of  these  men  of  mercy  and 
charity,  and  the  faithful  dog  of  St.  Bernard  formed  a  bright, 
beautiful  picture  in  my  heart  of  man's  charity  for  man, 
that  has  clung  to  my  memory  bright  and  glowing  through 
ill  the  long  years  of  my  life.  The  good  monks  blessed 
the  soldier  as  he  marched  on  with  heart  resolved  on  liberty 
or  death.  The  soldier  thanked  the  good  monk  and  the 
Infinite  blessed  them  both. 


>•-        r 


MARENGO. 


33 


Paul  Lorraine  was  still  prompt  and  active  in  the  dis- 
charge of  duty.  His  superior  skill  In  mountain  life  was 
pretty  much  recognized  by  all.  Oftentimes  he  was  sent 
forward  as  a  pioneer  to  determine  the  most  practical  path- 
way. Most  of  his  time  was  occupied  in  the  immediate 
front  of  Napoleon,  who  seemed  to  rely  strongly  on  the 
sound  judgment  of  this  youthful  soldier  in  determining 
courses,  and  his  ready  skill  in  the  use  of  the  mountain  pick 
in  cutting  pathways. 

The  valley  of  Aosta  is  reached ;  a  long,  narrow  chasm, 
through  which  the  river  Aosta  rushes  with  violent  force 
barely  leaving  a  pathway  on  the  side  for  a  horseman.  Pre- 
cipitous cliffs  hundreds  of  feet  high,  rose  up  on  either  side 
like  lofty  prison  walls,  defying  mortal  man  to  scale  their 
giddy  heights.  All  at  once  consternation  and  dismay  was 
expressed  on  the  face  of  the  soldier.  A  lion  was  in  the 
pathway.  In  the  very  centre  of  this  narrow  valley  was  a 
lofty  pinnacle  of  rock  inaccessible  on  the  side  the  army 
was  approaching.  On  the  top  of  this  rock  was  the  fort  of 
Bard,  with  cannon  placed  in  position  that  commanded  the 
valley,  through  which  Napoleon's  army  was  advancing. 
Was  this  the  end  of  all  this  triumphant  achievement  in 
crossing  the  Alps  with  this  army  and  its  heavy  munitions 
of  war  ?  Napoleon  saw  the  peril  instantly,  and  passed  lo 
the  front.  With  great  difficulty  and  danger  he  clambered 
on  the  side  of  the  rugged  rocks,  concealing  himself  by  the 
stunted  trees  and  bushes,  until  he  got  above  the  fort,  and 
could  see  down  into  it.  He  had  a  full  view  of  the  cannon 
in  position  and  the  men  in  the  fort,  ready  to  use  them  when 
the  proper  time  came.  He  was  looking  for  a  position  for 
his  artillery  to  send  a  plunging  shot  into  the  fort,  and  dis- 
mantle it.    This  was  among  the  impossibles.     On  a  high 


*  •  It ; 


!!!   I 

I , .III  I    . 
!     ■  ■    ,  t 


Mil 


34 


EXILES   OF  LOUISIANA. 


eminence,  beyond  the  fort,  there  was  plainly  visible  a  road 
winding  in  the  hills.  If  his  army  could  only  reach  that 
road  it  was  possible  for  him  to  pass,  without  the  guns  of 
the  fort  being  able  to  interfere  with  his  march.  Napoleon 
returned  and  stated  to  Paul  what  he  had  seen  on  the  distant 
hills,  and  asked  him  to  find  a  pathway  from  this  valley 
into  the  road.  Paul  promptly  answered,  "  I  can  try,  sire,  and 
with  your  permission  will  undertake  it."  His  mountain  pick 
was  in  his  hand.  He  crossed  the  rushing  waters  of  the 
Aosta,  with  the  aid  of  a  rope  in  the  hands  of  soldiers, 
passed  along  down  the  stream  on  the  opposite  side  and 
came  back  on  a  projecting  ledge,  until  he  was  far  above 
the  heads  of  the  army  in  the  valley,  and  gave  them  to  un- 
derstand that  the  many  shots  that  had  been  fired  at  him 
from  the  fort,  had  passed  him  unharmed.  The  brave  boy 
dashed  on  up  the  cliff,  until  he  stood  on  the  very  summit, 
and  there  he  saw  the  road  Napoleon  had  observed,  and 
that  descended  to  the  village  of  Aosta,  in  Piedmont,  and 
also  back  towards  the  hills,  on  the  line  of  march  which 
the  army  had  been  passing ;  and  thus,  by  returning  he  dis- 
covered a  pathway,  that  they  might  in  safety  reach  this 
road.  He  reported  to  Napoleon,  and  under  cover  of  the 
night  the  army  passed  the  fort,  without  the  least  injury. 
The  Austrian  commander  of  Fort  Bard,  reported  that 
the  army  of  Napoleon,  had  passed  in  the  night,  but  with- 
out any  artillery,  as  it  was  impossible  for  him  to  move  his 
guns  on  a  narrow  pathway  upon  which  a  mule  could  scarce- 
ly walk.  The  army  in  Piedmont,  the  wonderful  march  is 
accomplished. 

It  is  truly  said,  that  he  who  has  justice  with  him  is 
doubly  armed.  This  army  represented  what  is  generally 
called  in  all  countries  the  middle  classes  of  France.     They 


DESAIX. 


35 


are  the  vitality  of  all  people,  and  are  in  sympathy  with  the 
lower  classes,  and  protect  them  from  the  effects  of  despot- 
ism to  a  great  extent.  This  class  in  France  are  people 
of  a  liigh  degree  of  intelligence.  They  had  seen  from 
the  experience  of  centuries,  that  the  old  governments  of 
Europe,  hereditary  kings  supported  by  an  extravagant, 
wanton  and  corrupt  nobility,  could  never  bvlng  peace  and 
prosperity.  They  knew  that  if  France  was  left  to  act  for 
herself,  she  could  establish  and  maintain  a  republican  gov- 
ernment. Never  was  there  a  grander  achievement  in  the 
cause  of  justice  and  self-government,  than  the  triumphant 
march  of  Napoleon  across  the  Alps. 


II. 


Desaix. 

The  Battle  of  Marengo  occurred  June  14,  1800.  All 
battle-fields  leave  tragical  memories.  Marathon,  Bunker 
Hill,  and  Marengo  are  each  marked  with  a  mournful,  pa- 
thetic history.  Kach  called  forth  a  nation's  tcais,  mourn- 
ing for  heroic  sons,  who  had  fallen  in  a  struggle  with 
despotism  and  defending  liberty.  Marathon  had  Cynegi- 
rus ;  Marengo,  Desaix ;  Bunker  Hill  had  Warren.  They 
arise  up  to  memory  out  of  these  sepulchres,  sanctified  to 
human  liberty,  clothed  with  a  radiant  glory,  grander  by  far 
than  any  honor  earth  can  bestow.  At  the  battle  of  Ma- 
rengo, for  some  time  it  was  as  if  these  brave  men  had 
passed  the  horrible  dangers  of  the  mountain  march,  had 
endured  hardships  in  every  conceivable  form,  \\\  vain. 
That  they  had  encountered  all  this  suffering  but  to  find  a 
grave  upon  the  plains  of  Italy.     The  charge  after  charge 


36 


EXILES    OE  LOUISIANA. 


of  the  trained  soldiers  of  Austria  was  terrible ;  nothing 
but  the  most  heroic  courage  saved  the  defenders  of  France 
from  quick  destruction.  Desaix  was  anxiously  expected 
with  reinforcements.  Napoleon  sat  upon  his  horse  with 
that  inexpressible  serenity  that  seemed  to  say,  I  see  the 
end,  and  it  is  victory.  The  French  army  were  as  if  strug- 
gling  in  the  last  effort  for  supremacy  on  the  battle-field,  as 
if  saying,  can  it  be  that  the  cause  of  liberty  is  to  perish 
here  ?  Then  a  moment  of  supreme  anxiety,  verging  on 
despair ;  but  destiny  decreed  that  France  should  triumph. 
Hark !  there  is  floating  on  the  air  a  dull  booming  sound, 
like  distant  thunder.  Thousands  of  tongues  shouted  the 
name  of  Desaix !  Desaix !  It  was  the  cannon  of  Desaix 
announcing  glad  tidings.  Napoleon  said  of  him,  Desiiix 
is  of  the  heroic  mould  of  antiquity.  He  will  decide  this 
contest  on  the  sidtj  of  justice  and  liberty.  He  rapidly 
moves  along  in  solid  column,  and  passes  on  to  the  ^eld  of 
battle.  The  Austrian  is  dismayed.  Rapid,  still  more 
rapid  were  the  blows  this  athlete  of  war  struck  the  serried 
ranks  of  despotism.  The  whole  entire  army  of  peace  and 
liberty,  with  hearts  renewed  and  resolved,  charged  upon 
the  Austrian  army;  they  wavered,  broke  into  fragments,  and 
at  last  gave  away,  and  the  victory  was  with  Napoleon. 
To  France  this  is  a  national  sepulchre,  sacred  to  the  mem- 
ory of  the  heroic  dead.  Marengo  has  a  history  full  of 
mournful  pathos.  Had  you  have  asked  a  French  soldier 
about  Marengo,  with  tears  he  would  have  told  you  that 
Desaix  came  to  save  and  to  die.  That  the  cannon  in  the 
distance  that  brought  joy  to  other  hearts,  was  but  the 
mournful  funereal  knell  of  the  man  who  came  to  conquer 
and  to  die.  Had  you  have  asked  a  Greek  in  olden  times 
9,bout  Marathon,  he  would  have  told  you  the  sad,  mournful 


DESAIX. 


37 


story  of  Cynegirus,  who  after  performing  wondrous  deeds 
of  valor  in  the  field  of  Marathon,  was  disarmed  and  cruelly 
slain  by  Persians,  while  rushing  to  save  Athens  from  the 
invader. 

Ask  the  American  to  tell  you  about  the  battle  of  Bun- 
ker Hill.  With  touching  pathos  he  would  relate  to  you 
how  the  noble  Warren  went  to  the  front  of  battle  and 
said,  "  I  am  ready  to  die,  if  liberty  can  live,  and  have  a 
resting-place  in  the  new  world."  The  victory  of  Marengo 
placed  Italy  in  the  hands  of  Napoleon.  The  dawn  of  the 
nineteenth  century  witnessed  the  advent  of  the  second 
Caesar  into  Imperial  Rome. 

Paul  Lorraine  had  been  seriously  wounded  in  the  battle. 
He  fought  side  by  side  with  a  good,  brave  youth  like 
himself,  Jean  Gendron.  When  Paul  fell  wounded  and 
disabled,  with  the  loss  of  blood,  from  a  severe  wound  in 
the  head  and  musket-ball  in  the  arm,  Jean  dragged  or 
carried  him  to  a  place  of  security,  procured  surgical  aid 
and  had  his  wounds  properly  cared  for.  As  Jean  was  no 
longer  wanted  in  the  battle-field,  he  stayed  with  his  friend 
until  rest  and  refreshments  had  brought  him  to  a  knowl- 
edge of  his  situation.  P'or  some  time  he  was  unconscious. 
The  last  incident  that  had  clung  to  his  memory  was  the 
joyful  shout  that  "  Desaix  was  coming,"  and  hearing  the 
distant  sound  of  his  cannon.  The  surgeon  pronounced 
his  wounds  serious,  but  not  decidedly  dangerous.  When 
his  mind  was  returned,  he  thanked  his  friend  Jean  for  his 
constant  care  and  kindness.  The  first  thought  that  entered 
his  mind  was  his  love  for  his  dear  old  mother  and  Annetta. 
He  thought  of  the  words  that  had  comforted  him  so  much 
in  his  hours  of  danger.  "  If  you  fall  in  defence  of  France, 
your  memory  will  be  so  dear  to  me.     The  good  and  true 


Ill 


'i\ 


Ml 


■  u-iu 


3» 


EXILES  OF  LOUISIANA. 


never  remain  long  in  misery  and  distress ;  the  good  angel 
soon  finds  them  and  leads  them  out  of  the  shadows 
of  misfortun*;  into  the  glad  sunlight  of  happiness  and 
joy." 

Upon  further  examination  of  Paul's  condition,  the 
surgeon  reported  that  it  would  be  a  long  time  before  he 
would  be  again  in  a  condition  for  service  in  the  army,  and 
by  a  special  order  from  Napoleon  himself,  he  was  well 
supplied  with  means,  and  sent  to  his  happy,  peaceful 
home  in  the  valley  on  the  Briangon  road. 

Little  did  Annetta  or  Paul  think  that  the  first  time  the 
shadows  of  misfortune  would  fall  upon  him,  Annetta 
herself  would  be  the  sweet  angel  to  bring  the  sunlight 
of  joy  to  his  heart.  Well  will  it  be  for  him,  if,  in  the  dark 
hours  of  tribulation,  in  the  years  to  come,  his  noble  soul, 
stricken  with  agony  and  despair,  God  will,  in  tender  com- 
passion, send  this  same  angel  of  love  and  mercy,  to  lead 
him  out  of  the  shadows  of  misfortune,  into  the  sunlight 
of  joy. 


ITALY, 


Book  III. 


I. 


Italy. 

Leghorn  is  situated  on  the  Mediterranean  sea,  and 
is  the  principal  seaport  of  Tuscany,  not  far  from  Pisa 
and  Florence,  the  famous  seat  of  art.  There  in  Florence 
originated  the  Florentian  school,  and  the  illustrious  name 
of  Leonardo  da  Vinci.  Here,  too,  is  the  poetic  Valley 
of  Arno. 

One  of  the  main  features  of  the  excellence  of  the 
old  masters  in  art  was  in  the  management  of  shadows  in 
the  background.  The  Chinese  form  some  very  good 
foreground  pictures,  both  in  landscape  and  figure  painting, 
yet  they  seem  to  have  had  no  conception  of  the  superior 
advantage  in  perspective  and  background  shadows.  The 
old  masters  with  Leonardo  da  Vinci  in  a  very  high  degree 
displayed  wonderful  skill  in  detaching  the  front  figures  from 
the  shadows.  These  background  shadows  were  not  of  any 
distinct  color ;  there  is  in  fact  no  color  that  the  eye  can 
detect.  The  colors  with  which  these  shadows  are  formed 
are  so  blended,  and  laid  on  the  convass,  that  the  eye 
is  deceived  into  the  conclusion  that  you  are  looking 
through  the  shadows  on  more  distant  objects,  while  the 
foreground  figures  rise  up  in  front  detached  from  both 
shadow  and  object. 

There  are  separate  photographs  taken  of  the  different 
personages  represented  in  Da  Vinci's  painting  of  the  "  Last 
Supper,"  and  any  person  well  versed  in  the  character  of 

39 


Ml  I 


m 


m  It 


r 


w\>\ 


Ijjjili 


40 


EXILES  OF  LOUISIANA. 


the  disciples  can  readily  tell  the  one  which  each  figure 
was  intended  to  represent.  Any  one  could  select  Judas. 
This  arises  from  the  fact  that  the  artist,  it  is  said,  selected 
corresponding  characters,  as  near  as  possible  from  living 
models. 

In  the  fore  part  of  the  present  century,  in  the  city 
of  Leghorn,  not  very  far  distant  from  the  gate  leading  to 
Pisa,  there  is  a  mansion  (or  palace,  as  the  Italians  call  any 
large  edifice)  belonging  to  a  family  by  the  name  of  Vilani, 
connected  with  an  old  aristocratic  family  of  Florence,  and 
was  at  this  time  occupied  by  Count  Vilani,  Lady  Verono, 
and  a  quiet,  retired  looking  man,  with  ^he  appearance  and 
dignity  of  a  priest,  whose  name  was  Alonzo.  It  was  gen- 
erally understood  that  the  family  of  Vilani  was  connected 
with  the  celebrated  family  of  the  Medici  through  the 
forefathers  of  Lady  Verono  and  Alonzo.  These  children 
of  nobility  are  very  numerous  throughout  the  Italian 
states,  for  the  reason  that  titles  of  nobility  descend  to 
all  the  sons  of  the  family.  They  all  like  a  life  of  splendid 
•ease.  They  detest  hard  work,  and  the  largest  portion 
of  them  are  driven  to  the  very  extremes  of  poverty. 

The  property  descends  to  the  sons,  and  is  hereditary,  and 
cannot  be  sold,  and  thus  you  will  often  find  a  marquis, 
renting  out  to  strangers  furnished  apartments  in  his 
palace,  while  he  has  a  little  shop  in  the  basement,  where 
he  sells  oil,  wine,  olives,  fruits,,  etc.  An  American  marquis 
would  naturally  take  to  the  peanut  trade.  To  an  American 
count  the  pop-corn  commerce  would  be  most  admirable.  A 
duke,  the  head  and  front  of  a  first  class  saloon !  It  is  not 
strange  to  see  in  Italy  a  real,  genuine  marquis  or  count, 
begging  for  food  or  clothing.  How  strange  it  would 
appear  in  our  country  to  have  a  real  marquis  go  to  the 


'i  ^A*^ 


■Ai  ,w 


ITALY. 


41 


ach  figure 
2ct  Judas. 
1,  selected 
rom  living 

1  the  city 
leading  to 
tis  call  any 
of  Vilani, 
rence,  and 
ly  Verono, 
.ranee  and 
[t  was  gen- 
connected 
irough  the 
;e  children 
he  Italian 
lescend  to 
f  splendid 
St  portion 
rty. 

ditary,  and 
marquis, 
Its  in  his 
ent,  where 
in  marquis 
American 
lirable.  A 
It  is  not 
or  count, 
it  would 
go  to  the 


back  door  of  the  kitchen  department,  say  to  the  lady 
of  the  house,  "  Something  to  eat,  I  am  hungry." 

She  says,  '*  I  will  give  the  noble  marquis  to  understan  ^ 
that  he  must  first  weed  the  garden,  hoe  the  potatoes,  and 
clean  the  front  yard,  then  his  lordship  shall  no  longer 
hunger  for  food." 

"  Madame,  what  is  all  this ;  why  it  is  work,  and  my 
ancestors  would  rise  from  their  graves  were  I  to  use  the 
shovel,  hoe,  or  spade.     Good-da_, ,  Madame." 

Or,  "  Noble  duke,  how  is  the  pop-corn  trade  ? "  or,  "  My 
lord  count,  is  the  peanut  trade  lively? "  In  our  hotels  the 
drummers  of  commercial  houses  would  have  the  titled 
nobility  to  serve  them  at  the  table  —  dukes,  marquises, 
and  counts,  to  obey  their  orders.  It  would  be  a  little 
inconvenient  to  be  using  these  sounding  titles,  but  it  would 
pay  in  dignity.  It  would  sound  well  to  say,  "  Noble  Duke 
some  warm  potatoes ; "  or, "  Count,  hand  me  a  glass  of  water. 
Marquis !  bottle  wine,  napkins,  glasses,  quick !  "  Finally, 
with  a  great  deal  of  gusto,  you  order  the  marquis  to  black 
your  boots. 

This  reminds  me  of  an  artist  of  some  prominence,  but 
exceedingly  vain  and  self-conceited,  who  said  to  Governor 
Ford,  of  Illinois,  "  I  am  well  convinced,  governor,  that 
gentlemen  who  are  distinguished  for  talent  and  genius,  even 
in  republican  democratic  Illinois,  should  be  distinguished 
by  some  title." 

"Well,"  said  the  governor,  "I  am  willing,  and  as 
governor  of  Illinois,  I  will  commence  on  you." 

"  Well,  what  title  would  you  confer  on  me,  governor." 

"  Count  Jackaski." 

Governor  Ford  was  never  afterwards  importuned  on  the 
question  of  a  titled  nobility. 


i;    !'! 


42 


EXILES  OF  LOUISIANA. 


Those  Italian  counts  and  marquises  who  turn  their 
hereditary  palace  into  some  practical  use,  and  thus  earn 
an  honest  livelihood,  are  a  vast  improvement  on  their 
ancestors,  who  lived  in  splendid  ease  and  luxury  on  the 
earnings  of  others'  toil  and  industry,  and  who  formed  a 
class  of  nobility  who  gave  strength,  power,  and  endurance, 
to  an  organized  system  of  robbery,  and  plunder,  of  the 
to  ling  masses,  and  with  cruel  mockery  called  this  heartless 
system  a  government.  If  the  people  complain  they  say, 
"  kings  are  divinely  appointed  to  rule  over  you,  and  you 
have  no  choice  but  to  obey." 


II. 


The  Insane  Count. 

With  this  Count  Vilani  there  was  a  serving  man,  an 
Italian,  who  went  by  the  name  of  Geno,  a  most  villainous 
model  of  humanity.  Surely  no  one  could  ever  recover 
damages  against  Geno  for  obtaining  goods  under  false 
pretences.  To  look  at  his  face  you  would  think  of  the 
sign  you  often  see  at  places  where  intruders  are  not 
wanted,  "  look  out  for  the  dog."  Da  Vinci  surely  must 
have  met  one  of  Geno's  ancestors  and  took  him  for  a 
mo^Ui  ot    n'  Judas  in  the  last  supper. 

xn\  e  ere  the  principal  members  of  the  household 
of  Count  Vilani.  They  were,  so  to  speak,  the  foreground 
figures  of  the  picture.  In  the  background  there  were  shadows 
filled  with  vague  images  of  injustice,  like  the  dark  shadows 
of  Benjamin  West's  painting  of  "Death  on  the  Puie  Horse," 
filled  with   indistinct  images   of  terror.     To  the   outsid'* 


THE  INSANE  COUNT. 


43 


world  there  was  a  cloud  over  the  house  of  Vilani,  arising 
from  vague  and  undefined  hints  of  crime,  that  never  had 
assumed  any  direct  or  specific  charge  of  acts  committed 
by  any  member  of  this  household  that  the  law  would  recog- 
nize or  seek  to  punish.  Count  Vilani  had  a  cousin, 
Francisco  Vilani,  who  had  become  heir  to  a  considerable 
fortune.  He  was  insane,  and  was  for  some  time  confined 
in  an  institution  for  the  insane,  at  Florence. 

This  Count  Vilani,  or  Colonel  Vilani,  as  he  was  some- 
times called  from  his  having  served  some  years  in  the 
army,  had  by  his  influence,  and  position,  induced  the 
public  authority  to  place  his  cousin  Francisco,  under  his 
cha'%'e,  and  urging  the  change  upon  the  ground  that  he 
( ■/  ('d  better  cared  for  under  the  immediate  attention 
aiiCi  supervison  of  his  relatives.  Lady  Verono,  Alonzo,  and 
himself,  they  being  the  only  relatives  the  unfortunate 
Francisco  had  living.  The  insane  cousin  did  not,  however, 
long  survive  the  change.  He  gradually  passed  away  to 
his  grave. 

Soon  gossip  began  to  weave  its  dismal  tales  of  slow 
poison,  or  starvation,  in  a  dungeon  in  the  palace,  and  that 
a  vast  amount  of  gold,  diamonds,  and  precious  stones, 
were  concealed  and  hid  away  in  some  secret  place  to  be 
used  by  the  pe'[)etrators  of  the  crime.  Colonel  Vilani,  of 
course,  accou.ic  )  ^')  the  authorities  for  the  property  of  the 
deceased,  1  it  ,v  s  ip  would  say,  "shame  !  shame  ! '' 

These  tales.  course,  soon  passed  away,  and  their 
memor}'^  forgottc  leaving  nothing  but  a  very  indistinct 
impression  on  t'.e  public  mind  that  something  of  the  kind 
was  some  ye^irs  ago  talked  about  among  idling  gossips. 

Colonel  Vilai;i  was  of  fine,  personal  appearance,  haughty 
and  elegant  in  deportinent,  tasty  and  fashionable  in  dress 


i^ 


I        !ii' 


I  II 


iir 


iHii  ill 


III 


;,itl 


44 


EXILES   OF  LOUISIANA. 


There  was  one  conclusion  that  any  one  would  arrive  at, 
that  there  was  a  cold,  sinister  expression  in  his  face,  that 
stamped  him  as  a  vain,  heartless  man.  He  was  accused 
of  being  a  libertine, —  and  surely  the  expression  of  his  face 
was  that  of  gross  sensuality,  —  and  that  these  charges  were 
founded  on  facts.  But  a  nobleman  in  any  part  of  Italy, 
with  plenty  of  gold  to  back  his  title  and  claim  to  nobility, 
would  be  invincible  against  any  charges  of  this  character, 
from  the  populace  ;  and  Colonel  Vilani  could  indulge  him- 
self in  all  his  licentious  acts  with  perfect  impunity. 


III. 


Lady  Verono. 

Lady  Verono,  thus  living  with  Count  Vilani,  her  rela- 
tive, alone  apparently,  in  the  palace,  did  not  necessarily 
involve  her  in  any  suspicion  of  improper  conduct.  It  was 
not  unusual  for  relatives  among  the  nobility,  thus  to  live 
together  in  family  residences.  Why  she  was  called  Lady 
Verono,  history  does  not  inform  us.  Verono  was  her 
family  rame,  and  she  was  regarded  as  the  lady  of  the 
palace  household. 

To  the  casual  observer,  this  beautiful  woman,  with  her 
graceful  suavity,  and  polished  address,  challenged  admira- 
tion and  affection.  This  splendid  medallion  had  a  reverse 
side  that  was  terrible.  Here  was  one  of  the  marked  traits 
of  the  house  of  Medici.  The  accomplished  artist  would 
fondly  trace  those  classic  features  upon  the  canvass,  and 
view  his  wrrk  with  delight  and  admiration.  Yet,  when  he 
went  away  <rom  the  subject  and  his  easel,  a  shadow  would 


LADY   VERONO. 


45 


fall  on  his  heart,  producing  a  vague,  undefined  terror.  In 
his  imasination  there  would  arise  the  dim  outline  of  a 
fiend  clothed  in  the  garb  of  beauty  and  loveliness.  Per- 
haps the  beautiful  evil  one  that  carried  the  poisoned 
chalice  into  Paradise,  was  such  a  being,  to  have  beguiled 
Eve,  so  that  she  cast  from  her  peace  and  happiness,  and 
was  led  into  the  paths  of  sin,  to  suffer  the  bitter  pangs 
of  woe.  Lady  Verono  was  a  lady  of  marked  talent, 
ability,  and  energy,  and  doubtless  was  the  master  spirit  in 
the  household. 

Annetta,  the  humble  peasant  girl  of  the  Alps  valley  in 
France,  was  beautiful,  because  her  heart  was  good  and 
pure.  She  was  loved,  for  her  soul  was  true  and  lofty,  and 
full  of  grand  thoughts  and  emotions,  and  because  her 
faith  rested  in  an  infinite  God,  who  to  her  was  the  per- 
sonification of  goodness,  mercy,  and  love.  Her  humble 
garb  and  plain  features  added  splendor  to  these  charms. 

Alonzo,  the  other  prominent  member  of  this  Vilani 
household,  was  not  a  marked  character,  judging  from  his 
personal  appearance.  He  had  a  quiet  look,  and  was 
retired  in  his  habits,  and  seldom  in  public.  He  had  been 
educated  for  the  priesthood,  and  why  he  did  not  fulfil 
his  holy  calling  we  cannot  say.  He  was  a  relative  of  the 
family  of  Vilani;  how,  or  in  what  degree,  the  writer  is 
unable  to  state. 

This  palace  or  mansion  was  erected  after  the  style 
of  the  buildings  in  Florence  ;  erected  more  with  regard  to 
durability  than  the  classic  style  of  architecture. 

The  interior  was  furnished  with  costly  elegance.  The 
carpetings,  hangings,  and  tapestry,  of  the  most  expensive 
material ;  paintings  representing  events  in  the  lives  of  the 
apostles ;  family  portraits  of  members  of  the  Vilani  family, 


I      !■' 


1 5 


46 


EXILES  OF  LOUISIANA. 


who  had  been  laid  in  the  vault  at  Florence,  centuries  ago ; 
beautiful  landscapes  of  picturesque  Italy,  by  Salvator 
Rosa,  decorated  the  lofty  walls  of  the  apartments.  Here 
and  there  were  choice  pieces  of  sculpture,  marked  with  the 
genius  of  Angelo. 

On  one  side  of  this  edifice  there  was  a  verandah, 
adjusting  itself  to  the  projecting  angles.  The  first  story 
had  the  appearance  of  dead  walls,  while  the  second  story 
in  front  was  embellished  with  a  splendid,  lofty  portico, 
looking  out  upon  the  blue  waters  of  the  Mediterranean 
Sea. 

A  wide  area  of  cultivated  ground  surrounded  the  palace, 
and  was  walled  in  with  stone,  archways,  and  hanging-gates 
of  iron  at  the  entrances.  The  building  was  marked  with 
the  age  of  centuries,  and  was  doubtless  erected  long 
before  the  struggle  between  Pisa  and  Florence,  when  the 
chained  harbor  of  Pisa  was  broken  by  the  Florentians. 

It  was  generally  understood  that  the  family  of  Vilani, 
were  connected  by  kindred  blood  with  the  Medici  of 
Florence,  and  that  this  relationship  came  by  the  ancestors 
of  the  Lady  of  Verono. 

The  founders  of  this  very  remarknble  family  of  Medici 
were  practitioners  of  medicine  in  Florence.  Its  history 
Dt-gun,  however,  with  Cosmo  de  Medici,  born  in  1389,  who 
became  the  head  and  principal  in  a  commercial  estab- 
lishment, that  had  a  counting-house  in  every  commercial 
city  of  any  importance  at  that  period,  and  was  said  to  be 
the  richest  man  in  all  Europe.  He  was  generous,  humane, 
and  enterprising,  and  during  his  time  the  Florentines 
enjoyed  the  highest  degree  of  prosperity  and  happiness. 
But  this  vast  wealth  laid  the  foundation  for  a  royal  family, 
whose  career  was  marked  with  tyrannical   cruelty  and 


iji 


THE  FLOWER   GIRL. 


47 


crime,  connected  with  talent,  ability,  and  energy,  unsur- 
passed. They  added  glory  and  renown  to  Florence,  but 
soon  overturned  the  republican  government,  and  estab- 
lished a  despotism.  Catherine  de  Medicis,  the  mother 
of  Charles  the  IX.  of  France,  was  a  descendant  of  Cosmo 
de  Medeci,  and  through  her  son,  while  in  his  minority, 
ruled  France  with  a  reign  of  terror.  The  historian  says 
of  her  that  she  was  distinguished  alike  for  great  talents 
and  great  cruelty.  The  history  of  this  family  furnishes 
a  valuable  lesson  to  the  friends  of  liberty  and  self-govern- 
ment:  That  the  concentration  of  vast  money  power,  in 
the  hands  of  a  few  designing  men,  is  one  of  the  most 
deadly  enemies  to  the  peace,  prosperity,  and  liberty,  of  the 
people. 


IV. 
The  Flower  Girl. 

Outside  of  the  walls  there  are  small  farms  or  gardens 
rented  or  leased  to  peasants,  who  are  very  industrious  and 
thrifty.  They  cultivate  the  vine,  olive,  delicious  fruits  of 
all  kinds,  and  vegetables  for  the  city  market.  The  daugh- 
ters and  wives  of  these  gardeners  may  be  seen  passing 
into  the  different  gates  of  Leghorn  dressed  in  their  pictur- 
esque style,  with  baskets  on  their  heads,  ladened  with  the 
rich  products  of  the  garden  and  vineyard. 

Not  far  from  the  Pisga  gate,  on  the  hill-side,  tliere  was 
at  this  period,  an  old  man,  his  wife  and  daughter,  dwelling 
in  a  cottage  and  engaged  in  cultivating  a  small  vineyard 
with  fruits  of  various  kinds,  flowers,  and  vegetables. 
They  were  industrious,  prosperous  and  frugal.  The  old 
man  and  his  wife  were  skilled  in  gardening  and  in  the  cul- 


'T 


48 


EXILES  OF  LOUISIANA. 


tivation  of  rare  flowers.  They  had  emigrated  here  from 
some  part  of  Greece  years  back,  and  were  generally  known 
by  the  name  of  the  Greek  gardeners,  and  Iphi,  their 
daughter,  had  no  other  name  than  Iphi  the  flower  girl. 
The  daughter,  being  called  Iphi,  was  probably  an  abbrevi- 
ation of  Iphigene,  that  lovely  virgin  represented  in  a 
beautiful  work  of  art,  when  about  to  be  sacrificed  to 
appease  the  anger  of  Diana.  The  goddess  relented  when 
she  saw  her  beauty,  innocence,  and  tears,  and  placed  a 
kid  upon  the  altar  of  sacrifice  instead,  and  carried  Iphi- 
gene away  from  earth  and  consecrated  her  to  Vesta. 

The  ancient  Iphigene  was  not  more  lovely,  though  rep- 
resented by  the  bright  conception  of  artistic  genius,  than 
this  modern  Iphigene,  the  humble  daughter  of  the  gar- 
dener at  Leghorn.  Iphi  possessed  the  classic  beauty  of 
Verono,  and  the  chr  ^te,  pure  soul  of  Annetta. 

The  humble  garb  of  the  flower  girl  added  charms  to 
her  graceful  form,  while  her  innocence  and  sweetness  of 
temper  beamed  forth  in  every  word  and  action. 

Iphi  was  at  this  period,  being  four  years  since  the  battle 
of  Marengo,  about  the  age  of  fourteen  or  fifteen,  and  had 
been,  for  several  years  back,  actively  engaged  in  carrying 
fruit  and  flowers  to  the  market  of  Leghorn. 

Among  her  coustant  customers  was  Lady  Verono,  who 
had  impressed  her  with  the  idea  that  she  was  everything 
that  was  good  and  true.  Oftentimes  she  would  say  to  her 
parents,  "  How  kind,  how  good  the  lady  of  the  palace  is  to 
me.  She  oftentimes  presses  me  to  take  more  than  I  ask 
for  my  flowers." 

Thus  it  was  that  Iphi's  life  was  a  life  of  peace,  love,  and 
gratitude.  What  joy  to  her  to  provide  for  her  clear  father 
and  mother,  who  had  so  kindly  watched  over  her  in  her 


THE  FLOWER  GIRL. 


49 


tender  years  of  infancy.  Alas,  for  us  poor  mortals  !  these 
dreams  of  happiness  vanish.  The  sad  story  of  Eden  is 
constantly  repeating  its  woe.  That  beautiful  fiend  that 
led  Eve  away  from  peace  and  happiness,  is  still  abroad  in 
the  world  with  the  poisoned  cup,  pressing  it  to  the  lips  of 
virtue  and  innocence. 

There  was  at  this  time  a  Louis  Dejon,  the  son  of  a 
neighboring  gardener,  who  at  times  kindly  assisted  Iphi 
and  her  parents,  working  in  the  garden  and  vineyard.  As 
Louis  is  connected  with  this  narrative,  even  to  its  final 
denouement,  it  would  not  be  out  of  the  way  to  say  a  few 
words  in  his  description. 

He  was  more  than  an  ordinary  person,  although  the  son 
of  a  peasant.  He  was  one  of  those  characters  you  will 
sometimes  see,  who  are  stumbling-blocks  to  the  teachers  of 
phrenology  and  physiognomy.  His  face  was  expression- 
less. In  person  he  was  short,  thick-set,  strong  and  muscu- 
lar. His  deportment  reserved.  When  he  spoke  it  was 
rather  sensible,  firm,  and  resolute.  If  a  dishonest  man 
wished  his  services  to  perpetrate  some  scheme  of  villainy, 
Louis  -could  make  him  believe  he  had  his  man,  by  his  res- 
olute, firm  avowals,  and  nothing  in  his  looks  to  deny  his 
words.  There  was  nothing  in  his  appearance  attractive, 
nor  was  there  anything  repulsive.  To  see  him,  he  was 
nothing;  to  know  him  was  everything.  His  perceptions 
were  strong  and  quick,  a  genuine  heart,  with  dauntless 


courage. 


About  this  period,  there  was  a  garrison  established 
at  Leghorn,  with  several  regiments  of  troops,  stationed 
there  in  readiness  for  any  emergency  that  might  arise 
demanding  their  service.  When  Napoleon  became  the 
master  of  the   Italian    states,  his   policy  was  rcconcilia- 


Ti 


T 


I 


I  itti 


50 


EXILES   OF  LOUISIANA. 


•m 


tion.  They  claimed  him  as  an  Italian,  and  not  a  French- 
man. Very  many  of  them  were  like  the  peasant  woman  of 
the  Alps,  who  said  to  him,  "  Sire  we  are  willing  to  change 
kings  —  you  will  be  the  king  of  the  people  —  not  the  king 
"f  the  nobles."  His  policy  was  rather  to  break  down  all 
discrimination  of  Italian  or  French,  and  thus  in  the  end 
make  all  Italy  French.  Thus  it  was  that  Col.  Count 
Vilani  was  made  commander  of  the  garrison  at  Leghorn. 
His  power  was  local,  and  upon  the  removal  of  troops  his 
authority  ceased.  In  one  of  these  regiments  was  Jean 
Gendron,  who  had  saved  Paul  Lorraine's  life  at  Marengo, 
by  carrying  him  off  the  field  of  battle,  procuring  for  him 
surgical  assistance  in  time  to  save  his  life. 

Jean  was  a  smart,  good-looking,  clever  man ;  a  true^ 
faithful  friend  ;  a  good  soldier ;  always  ready  and  willing 
to  aid  a  friend ;  prompt  and  active  in  the  discharge  of 
every  duty.  He  became  acquainted  with  Louis  Dejon, 
and  through  Louis,  he  first  saw  Iphi,  and  was  at  first  sight 
enraptured  with  her  rare  beauty,  and  cheerful,  joyous, 
happy  disposition.  Iphi  also  liked  Jean,  with  his  open, 
frank  kindness,  and  cheering  words,  so  that  Iphi  said  of 
him,  "  He  appears  so  friendly,  and  pleasant,  that  Louis,  I 
must  say,  I  like  your  friend  very  much." 

Jean  was  oftentimes  stationed  at  the  garrison  gates  as 
guard,  and  Iphi  in  her  daily  duty  of  attending  market 
passed  this  way,  as  there  was  a  short  street  going  out  into 
the  market  way  from  the  avenue  coming  down  from  the 
Pisa  gate. 

Jean  would  salute  her  in  tenns  of  tender  affection,  rest 
her  for  a  while  of  her  burdens,  and  speak  to  her  cheerful 
words. 

Iphi  would  say :  "  Ah,  Jean,  you  are  so  good  and  kind, 


THE  FLOWER   GIRL. 


51 


I  know  very  well  you  are  a  true  friend,  and  will  not  desert 
me.  Jean  do  you  know  that  I  sometimes  think  there  is 
trouble  coming  to  me,  and  it  makes  my  heart  sad  ;  and  yet 
I  cannot  tell  what  it  is  or  where  it  is  to  come  from.  I  am 
so  happy  with  my  dear  father  and  mother,  and  every  one 
seems  kind  to  me  ;  Lady  Verono  is  such  a  beautiful  lady, 
and  so  good,  that  sometimes  I  think  my  happiness  is  too 
great  to  last." 

Jean  says,  "  The  Lady  Verono  is  the  person  who  lives 
in  the  commander's  palace." 

"  Yes,  Jean,  that  is  the  person  I  mean ;  she  is  very 
good  to  me." 

"  I  dare  say,"  replied  Jean,  "  but,  Iphi,  the  world  is  not 
what  it  seems.  You  judge  others  by  your  own  pure  motives, 
kind  heart,  and  warm  affections.  I  cannot  see  any  motive 
the  Lady  Verono  could  have  in  injuring  so  innocent  a  one 
as  you.  Yet,  Iphi.  vice  often  accomplishes  its  purpose,  by 
using  the  credulity  of  innocence." 

"Jean,  dear  Jean,"  she  said,  "  when  these  sad  thoughts 
come  to  me,  they  are  so  cold  and  cheerless ;  I  think  you 
have  come  to  guard  me  from  evil.  I  know  you  are 
true  and  faithful,  for  my  heart  says  so,  and  that  you  will 
be  my  good  friend  if  troubles  come." 

"  I  will,  Iphi ;  should  trouble  come  to  you  I  will  be 
with  you,  with  my  very  life  to  offer  up  in  defence.  These 
nobility  people  of  great  families  are  not  with  us,  nor  of  us, 
nor  do  they  sympathize  with  us  —  and  their  smiles  and 
favors  have  oftentimes  some  sinister  meaning  or  motive, 
that  we  cannot  at  all  times  detect." 

Iphi's  thanks  to  Jean  for  his  kindness  was  so  full  of 
love,  truth,  and  sincerity,  that  his  heart  was  touched  with 
tenderness  for  the  poor  girl,  fer  there  was  a  dread  that 


( 


f 


I  ll 


H 


52 


EXJLES  OF  LOUJSJANA, 


some  evil  was  awaiting  in  the  dim,  untlefined  future  for 
her  as  well  as  himself.  She  was  very  beautiful,  and  ex- 
])Osed  to  the  evil  designs  of  others,  and  he  bravely 
resolved  to  do  his  best  to  protect  her  from  harm,  even 
if  it  involved  his  life. 

He  kissed  her  hand  and  bid  her  a  cheerful  good-by. 

Thus  these  two  faithful  friends  met  day  after  day,  until 
friendship  ripened  into  the  purest  love.  It  was  a  love  that 
would  have  perfumed  the  shrine  of  virtue  with  purity  and 
innocence.  It  was  with  Jean  and  Iphi  like  Paul  and  An- 
netta. 

How  the  poor  and  humble  sympathize  one  with  the 
other.  They  help  each  other  to  carry  the  burdens  and 
sorrows  of  life  along  its  rugged  pathways.  Their  griefs 
and  cares  are  not  the  idle  dreams  of  the  imagination,  but 
stern  realities,  often  realized  in  absolute  want  and  destitu- 
tion. There  are  in  the  humble  walks  of  life  cares  and 
sorrows  and  noble  deeds  of  relief,  that  the  proud,  princely 
members  of  the  Medici  family  never  dreamed  of.  In  his 
leisure  hours  Jean  would  call  on  the  good  old  mother  and 
father  of  Iphi,  and  talk  to  them  of  many  things  appertain- 
ing to  the  cultivation  of  flowers,  vines,  &c.,  also  of  the 
political  condition  of  Italy.  The  common  people  of  Italy 
were  not  by  any  means  opposed  to  Napoleon.  They  com- 
prehended the  situation  of  Italy  in  her  political  condition, 
and  rather  looked  upon  Napoleon  with  favor.  He  was 
regarded  as  the  friend  of  the  people,  instead  of  the  nobles. 
Austria  was  of  course  the  lion  in  the  path  of  perfect  re- 
concilation. 


\  m 


PAUJ.  AND  ANNETTA, 


t% 


BOOK    IV. 


~      I. 

Paul  and  Annetta. 

A  flay  of  joy  follows  the  gloom  of  night. 
As  the  sun-light  follows  the  fleeing  shadow. 

We  will  leave  Leghorn  with  its  pretty  Iphi,  the  flower 
girl,  and  its  enchanting  siren  of  the  Vilani  palace  and  go 
back,  after  long  years  have  passed  away,  to  that  peaceful 
valley  of  the  Alps  in  Provence.  The  horrors  of  that  night 
on  the  battle  field  of  Marengo  exist  but  in  memory.  Its 
memories  are  sorrowful.  But,  thanks  to  the  heroic  dead, 
they  have  given  a  new  splendor  to  the  image  of  Liberty. 
Man's  perfect  freedom  of  mind  and  body  lifts  him  up  rin 
a  higher  plane  of  civilization,  progress  nnd  refinement, 
vee  governments  must  be  for  the  people. 
,  ery  possible  encouragement  should  be  given  to  indus- 
try. Peace  must  also  be  maintained,  and  go  hand  in  hand 
with  Liberty.  Rigid  economy  must  be  the  cardinal  point 
with  all  law-makers,  and  rulers ;  so  that  above  all  things 
the  burdens  of  taxation  may  fall  lightly  upon  the  shoul- 
ders of  honest  toil. 

Paul  Lorraine  gradually  recovered  from  the  severe 
wounds  he  had  received  at  the  battle  of  Marengo.  Some 
time  elapsed,  however,  before  he  recovered  that  buoyancy 
of  spirit,  robust  health,  and  perfect  freedom  of  action  that 
had  marked  his  boyhood  years.  He  was  more  quiet  and 
thoughtful,  but  his  generous  heart  still  retained  all  its 
kindness  to  others.    The  watchful  care  of  his  mother, 


54 


EXILES  OF  LOUISIANA. 


'IP 


- 


%\ 


Annetla,  and  Louis,  very  much  hastened  his  recovery  to 
health.  Several  years  ago  Paul  had  done  as  he  had  prom- 
ised, —  come  back,  and  made  Annetta  his  little  wife.  Truly 
this  was  a  union  of  hands  and  hearts,  and  their  love  was  not 
of  self ;  they  did  not  continually  plan  and  act  as  if  their 
own  individual  happiness  was  the  sole,  supreme  object  of 
their  lives  ;  it  enlarged  their  affection  and  made  them  more 
solicitous  for  the  peace  and  happiness  of  others.  They 
fondly  caressed  that  good  mother  that  had  so  patiently 
and  fondly  prayed  and  watched  over  them  in  the  years 
of  their  infancy. 

Poor  Annetta.  Beyond  yon  sloping  hill,  that  descends 
rapidly  into  the  valley,  beneath  the  shadow  of  the  Alpine 
cliff  and  the  solemn  pines,  there  is  a  cemetery,  with  two 
large,  newly  made  graves,  and  a  little  one ;  they  are  side 
by  side  ;  the  young  and  the  old  repose  together. 

This  cemetery  looks  so  peaceful,  so  quiet  and  serene, 
with  its  beautiful  green  lawn,  and  sequestered  shadows,  that 
the  aching  heart  might  well  be  tempted  to  throw  away  its 
pain  and  anguish,  and  lay  down  in  peaceful  rest.  These 
were  the  graves  of  Annetta's  parents,  father  and  mother, 
and  her  first-born,  that  had  passed  away  in  the  first  year 
of  its  infancy.  It  was  good  that  Father  Gerald  had  lived 
long  enough  to  rejoice  over  the  glad  victory  of  Marengo. 
Poor  Annetta  she  was  not  broken,  nor  cast  down  with  sor- 
row, or  indulging  in  vain  regrets,  yet  in  her  sweet  voice 
there  was  a  touching,  plaintive  sadness,  when  she  used  to 
say  to  the  good  mother,  or  Paul,  or  Uncle  Louis,  when 
they  sought  to  cheer  her  in  her  grief,  "  No,  no;  I  am  not 
sad  or  unhappy.  I  am  not  grieving  over  the  loss  of  dear 
ones  who  have  gone  before  us.  I  ask  how  could  I  be 
else  than  happy,  with  the  love  of  my  dear  Paul,  mother, 


PAUL  AND  ANNETTA. 


55 


and  kind  Uncle  Louis,  and  the  children  here  in  the  valley. 
No,  no,  I  am  not  sad  ;  for  surely  the  good  God  will  permit 
us  to  live  together  again  in  a  far  better  world  than  this. 

Paul  would  say:  "Annetta,  this  life  here  is  to  me  sweet 
at(d  pleasing.  Every  object  has  its  inexpressible  charms. 
The  forest,  the  field,  the  warbling  mountain  brooks,  the 
grand  old  hills,  the  winding  road  with  graceful  curves,  ris- 
ing over  hills,  and  falling  in  the  valleys  —  every  object  is 
clothed  with  hallowed  memories  of  the  past,  sad  and 
mournful,  joyful  and  happy.  Annetta,  I  love  to  sit  in  yon- 
der graveyard  where  sleep  the  beloved  dead.  I  love  to 
think  of  their  virtues,  and  think  of  our  dear  little  one 
resting  so  sweetly  in  the  shadows  of  the  pine  and  the 
cliff,  and  I  know  full  well,  Annetta,  that  its  soul,  so  pure 
and  unstained  with  the  sins  of  earth,  is  among  the  angels 
of  the  spirit  world.  And  above  all,  here  dwells  our  dear 
mother  so  precious  to  us  all,  and  makes  us  supremely 
happy  while  we  cheer  her  in  the  weary  decline  of  life.  I 
love  this  place  the  best  of  all  the  earth,  for  here  we 
learned  to  love  one  another.  Here  we  were  both  born, 
and  here  wedded  in  hand  and  heart  for  life." 

"  Paul,"  said  Annetta,  "  do  you  recollect  years  ago 
when  we  selected  a  star,  as  a  meeting-place  for  us  after 
death  ?  It  was  when  we  were  in  our  infancy,  and  yet  I 
recollect  it,  Paul,  as  well  as  if  it  had  been  but  yesterday." 

*'  Yes,  dear  Annetta,  I  have  never  forgotten  it.  It  was 
Venus,  as  evening  star,  and  I  have  never  gazed  upon  it 
shining  so  brightly  in  the  west,  over  the  vine-clad  hills, 
but  the  image  of  my  beloved  is  present  with  me.  When 
in  the  army  in  Italy,  it  blazed  with  marvellous  brilliaricy 
over  the  towering  summit  of  the  Alps,  and  seemed  to  tell 
me  that  all  was  peace  with  the  loved  ones  in  this  valley ; 


it 


S6 


EXILES  OF  LOUISIANA. 


'( 'ii 


\ 


'\  \  m 


t 

.';;■'  ''' 

r 

i 

\ 

1  ; 
III 

1    Hi 

!• 

y 

i'l .,  'I 

and  I  would  say  to  myself,  '  Doubtless  Annetta  is  this  mo- 
ment looking  upon  this  star,  and  thinkin^  of  the  absent 
one.'  See,  Annetta,  it  is  yonder  now,  over  the  western 
hills  in  its  old  place,  as  we  saw  it  from  the  cottage  of  your 
birth-place,  when  father  and  mother  Gerald  were  alive  to 
love  and  bless  their  infant  children ;  see,  Annetta,  how 
bright  it  is  getting  as  the  shadows  of  earth  arise  ! " 

Annetta's   eyes  were   dimmed  with   tears,  and  with   a 
plaintive  tone,  replied,  "Yes,  dear  Paul ;  I  have  often  and 
often  looked  at  that  star,  and  it  recalled  so  vividly  the  joy 
ful  days  of  our  young  love  ;  and  yet,  Paul,"  — 

"  Well,  Annetta,  and  yet  what?  you  hesitate." 

"  Well,  dear  Paul,  oftentimes  that  star  seems  to  say  to 
me  that  some  great  sorrow  awaits  us  all  in  the  years  that 
are  coming.  I  cannot  tell  why,  or  what  it  is,  and  yet  I 
cannot  dispel  from  my  heart  this  sad  foreboding  of  evil." 

"  Annetta,  it  is  the  sorrows  of  the  past  that  cast  this 
shadow  on  your  heart,  and  you  mistake  it  for  the  shadows 
of  the  future.  Cheer  up,  my  beloved  one  ;  it  will  be  well 
for  us  yet ;  we  will  see  many  happy  days  in  this  world.  I 
have  often  wondered  what  these  stars  were.  There  are 
countless  numbers  shining  and  sparkling  all  over  the  sky. 
What  do  you  think  they  are,  Annetta,  love? " 

There  was  a  flash  of  inspiration  on  the  sweet,  calm  face 
of  Annetta,  as  she  answered,  "  Perhaps  they  are  the  beau- 
tiful homes  of  the  immortal  in  heaven.  Perhaps  God  is 
in  the  large  stars  that  move  across  the  sky,  and  guards  the 
good  from  evil.  The  falling  stars  are  evil  ones  who  are 
cast  down  to  earth  for  their  sins.  I  know  God  made  them, 
for  they  ate  so  beautiful  and  full  of  promise  of  a  brighter 
and  better  world  than  this.  God  made  all  these  beautiful 
things  in  heaven  and  earth  to  cheer  us  in  our  weary  pil- 


PRUSSIA  JOINS  THE  KINGS . 


57 


irrimaire,  and  we  must  love  Him,  and  have  faith  in  Him  as 
our  good  mother  says  to  us,  He  will  in  the  end  make  all 
things  well  for  us,  dear  Paul." 

Paul  looked  into  the  face  of  Annetta,  beaming  with  love, 
tenderness  and  adoration,  and  his  faith  in  her  words  was 
as  great  as  the  son  of  Ancient  Israel  when  he  gazed  upon 
the  face  of  the  prophet. 

She  continued,  "  It  is  because  I  love  these  things  so 
much,  and  have  such  faith  in  God's  goodness,  that  I  love 
my  dear  Paul  so  much,  and  have  such  an  abiding  faith  in 
his  love  for  me."  She  threw  her  urms  around  her  hus- 
band's neck  and  rested  her  head  upon  his  bosom. 

Let  the  atheist  shatter  this  vase  of  faith  and  love  if  his 
heart  will  allow  him. 


II. 


Prussia  Joins  the  Kings. 

Prussia,  the  powerful  and  formidable  Prussia  with  her 
soldiers  trained  in  a  school  of  arms  established  by  Frc'  'r- 
ick  the  Great,  one  of  the  most  remarkable  characters  mat 
ever  figured  in  history,  had  declared  in  favor  of  Austria 
and  England  against  the  people  of  France. 

It  was  not  vain  ambition  that  prompted  Paul  Lorraine 
to  again  join  the  army  of  France. 

To  him,  Napoleon  was  a  majestic  figure,  heroically  stand- 
ing in  defence  of  justice.  He  saw  that  the  despotism  of 
the  allied  powers  were  seeking  to  fasten  on  France  the 
tyranny  of  the  past.  He  was  prompted  by  patriotism, 
love  of  home  and  country.     His  sympathies  were  aroused 


r  'I 


w 


ll  .i 


Ij     •! 


S8 


EXILES   OF  LOUISIANA. 


by  the  silent  appeals  of  a  bleeding  country.     The  thrilling 
words  of  the  Marseillaise,  "To  arms!  To  arms,"  came  to- 
him  as  the  wailing  cry  of  a  nation,  earnestly  pleading  for 
her  sons  to  fly  to  her  rescue,  in  the  hour  of  her  anguish 
and  despair. 

These  solemn  pleadings  aroused  his  noble  soul,  to  again 
strike  for  justice,  peace,  and  liberty. 

Oftentimes  he  would  say  to  Annetta,  if  only  France  was 
at  peace,  and  her  people  free  and  prosperous,  I  could  dwell 
so  happy  in  this  humble  home  among  our  dear  friends. 

Oftentimes,  Annetta,  Paul,  and  his  mother,  would  talk 
earnestly  on  this  subject;  and  their  conclusions  were 
always  the  same,  that  the  dictates  of  justice  and  right 
should  be  followed,  and  leave  the  consequence  to  the 
Power  above. 

Annetta  said  just  as  she  said  to  Paul  the  first  time  he 
was  called  to  the  army,  "  Surely  he  will  come  back  to 
me,  for  he  is  good  and  brave.  If  he  falls,  he  dies  in  de- 
fence of  our  dear  France,  and  his  memory  will  be  very 
dear  to  me." 

That  sublime  faith  in  the  goodness  of  the  Infinite  was 
the  sheet  anchor  of  the  mother.  To  assist  others,  make 
them  happy,  and  above  all  things,  strictly  to  perform  every 
duty  required  of  her  in  her  humble  life,  was  her  supreme 
happiness. 

If  the  kings,  rulers,  law-makers,  nobility,  the  wealthy 
and  powerful  of  all  governments,  were  controlled  in  their 
actions  by  such  grand  and  lofty  motives  as  influenced  this 
humble  peasant  woman,  the  husbands,  fathers,  and  sons 
would  not  be  dragged  off  to  be  sacrificed  upon  the  field  of 
battle  j  and  these  dear  homes,  so  full  of  peace,  joy,  and 
happiness,  transformed  into  homes  of  mournful  sadness. 


PRUSSIA  JOINS  THE  KINGS. 


59 


thrilling 
came  to- 
ding  for 
anguish 


to  again 


mce  was 
jld  dwell 
snds. 
)uld  talk 
ms  were 
,nd  right 
2   to  the 


Paul  Lorraine,  influenced  by  these  motives,  and  the 
kind,  generous  acts  of  Napoleon  in  furnishing  means  to 
have  him  removed  to  his  home  when  wounded  at  Marenofo. 
could  no  longer  endure  the  reflection  that  his  heroic  coun- 
trymen were  struggling  to  defend  the  liberties  of  France, 
while  he  rested  idly,  refusing  to  help  in  the  time  of  danger 
and  peril.  This  movement  of  Prussia  at  the  time,  had  an 
ominous  look,  and  Paul  is  again  a  soldier  in  the  grand 
army  of  France. 


t  time  he 
back  to 

ies  in  de- 
be  very 

inite  was 

irs,  make 

irm  every 

supreme 

!  wealthy 
1  in  their 
need  this 
and  sons 
le  field  of 
joy,  and 
adness. 


If]' 


'■fT 


60 


;ijiiiiiii!il 


EXILES  OF  LOUISIANA, 


BOOK     V. 


Jena, 

Napoleon  while  defending  France, 

The  crowned  heads  charge  him  with  ambition. 

Prussia  is  now  in  the  arena  of  war,  to  meet  France  in 
the  contest  of  arms. 

Frederick  the  Great,  during  his  lifetime,  had  raised  Prus- 
sia up  to  the  position  of  one  of  the  most  opulent  and 
powerful  nations  in  Europe.  Under  his  direction  and 
superintendence,  the  army  of  Prussia  advanced  to  a  posi- 
tion of  military  skill  and  discipline,  that  was  not  surpassed, 
if  equalled,  by  the  army  of  any  other  nation.  There  was 
some  decline  in  this  condition  of  things  during  the  reign 
of  his  nephew,  but  William  III,  had  again  restored  pros- 
perity and  power  in  Prussia. 

This  was  the  army  that  Napoleon  had  to  encounter, 
on  the  lield  of  Jena,  in  1806.  Jena  could  not  be  called  a 
battle ;  it  was  a  duel  between  two  gladiators  of  equal 
strength,  skill,  and  courage.  The  Prussian  says,  "  You 
shall  perish  on  this  battle-field."  The  Frenchman  says, 
"  I  come,  resolved  on  victory  or  death  !  Strike  !  "  This 
condition  of  things  made  it  an  encounter  of  life  or  death, 
between  two  of  the  grandest  armies  in  Europe ;  made  it 
one  of  the  most  terrible  battle-fields  in  loss  of  life,  com- 
paring the  numbers  engaged  on  each  side,  recorded  in 
history. 

It  was  the  grim  banquet  of  death,  the  goblets  overflowed 
with   the   red   current   of    life.      The   carnival   was   bril- 


JENA. 


6i 


liant  with  the  flames  of  \vur.  The  music  was  the  cannon's 
roar,  the  clash  of  arms,  and  the  cry  of  "Charge,  brave 
men,  charge  !  "  Now  the  valiant  Prussian  is  pressing  clown 
the  grand  banners  of  France.  Then  comes,  as  if  from 
some  dark  abyss,  a  charge  that  strikes  dismay  to  the  Prus- 
sian. Is  this  victory  "i  No !  The  Prussian,  like  some 
wonderful  athlete  in  the  game  of  death,  recovers  from  the 
siiock  and  is  eager  for  the  contest.  The  victory  is  poised 
over  the  bloody  field.  Truly  this  was  Greek  confronting 
Greek.  Reserved  troops  had  been  marched  into  battle  to 
fill  up  the  depleted  ranks  on  both  sides. 

The  man  on  horseback  on  the  summit  of  Landgraph- 
enberg  was  looking  thoughtfully  and  serenely  upon  the 
battle-field.  V^et  his  fate  is  in  the  balance.  Surely  he  must 
be  prescient.  That  mighty  brain  is  calculating  chances. 
Nothing  escapes  his  eagle  glance.  He  is  surrounded  with 
the  Imperial  (guards. 

It  is  Jove  on  Mount  Olympus.  The  Imperial  Guard  is 
the  thunderbolt,  poised  in  his  grasp,  ready  to  strike  when 
the  auspicious  moment  comes. 

Tiie  (iuard  was  mounted,  and  in  order.  At  their  head 
was  a  man  mounted  on  a  black  horse. 

He  is  clothed  in  sable  garmen  s,  with  a  white  plume.  It 
is  Murat.  His  face  is  pale,  cold,  and  passionless.  He 
looks  the  classic  personification  of  Mars,  wrought  from 
marble  by  the  skillful  hand  of"  supreme  art.  Cold  as  he 
appeared  to  be  in  this  moment  of  extreme  peril,  there  was 
in  his  breast  a  volcano  of  wrath.  He  saw  the  sons  of 
France  fall  in  battle,  and  his  brave  heart  and  strong  arm 
were  not  there  to  strike  and  save.  The  Austrian  said  of 
him,  "  He  is  the  fiend  c  f  war."  The  Frenchman  said, 
"  No,  he  is  t'^  ,  angel  of  mercy."     Who  would  suppose  that 


■HHi 


^Jilf        I 


^'11!'!'!' 


■w?' 


WK'.lM 


liiiH 


it: 


m 


62 


EXILES  OF  LOUISIANA. 


cold  face,  so  stern,  so  rigid  in  battle,  had  a  heart  often 
moved  to  tears  of  pity  and  compassion,  a  heart  that  was 
truly  merciful.  He  said,  "  Never,  never  have  I  looked 
upon  a  man,  and  then  killed  him.  His  image  would  have 
embittered  my  existence." 

The  order  came  at  last  to  General  Murat  to  charge. 
Like  the  mighty  mountain  torrent,  down  rushed  the  column 
of  armed  heroes,  sweeping  on  bravely  to  the  contest.  The 
rising  and  falling  of  the  hill  and  plain,  in  their  undula- 
tions, gave  it  the  appearance  of  a  vast  serpent,  with  the 
fleetness  of  the  wind.  There  was  a  blow,  ,a  crash.  The 
Prussians  received  the  charge  with  courage,  but  it  was  too 
much  for  mortal  man  to  endure.  Wherever  that  dark  fig- 
ure with  the  white  plume  went,  the  guard  followed.  The 
enemy  disajDpeared  as  if  confronted  by  the  angels  of  death. 
It  is  no  longer  a  battle,  but  a  carnage.  Although  the 
Prussian  army  was  driven,  and  absolutely  forced  from  the 
field,  never,  perhaps,  in  the  world's  history  were  they  sur- 
passed in-  the  skill,  courage,  and  true  heroism  they  dis- 
played on  the  battle-field  of  Jena. 

Napoleon's  victory  at  Jena  was  a  decree  against  the 
crowned  heads  of  Europe  interfering  with  the  divine  right 
of  the  people  of  France,  in  their  glorious  struggle  to  estab- 
lish self-government.  Soon,  and  he  was  in  possession  of 
the  city  of  Berlin,  and  the  tomb  of  Frederick  the  Great. 
He  accepted  the  surrender  of  the  one,  and  with  reverence 
stood  in  the  presence  of  the  other.  It  was  the  supreme 
majesty  of  life ;  standing  with  reverential  awe  in  the  sol- 
emn shadows  of  the  tomb  of  the  majestic  dead. 

This  victory  made  Napoleon  the  master  of  the  situation. 
The  king  of  Spain  surrendered ;  he  placed  his  brother 
Joseph  on  the  throne.     Joseph,  having  resigned  the  posi- 


^N^ 


JENA, 


63 


tion  of  king  of  Naples,  Joachim  Murat,  the  husband  of 
Caroline  Bonaparte,  was  placed  on  this  vacant  throne  with 
the  title  of  king  of  Naples. 

We  have  gone  aside  out  of  our  pathway  in  speaking  of 
this  battle  of  Jena,  for  the  reason  that,  if  Napoleon  had 
lost  the  battle  of  Jena,  there  would  have  been  no  occasion 
to  have  written  anything  about  the  life  of.  Paul  Lorraine. 
He  was  with  Jean  Gendron  on  that  fearful  battle-field, 
fighting  with  true  heroism  in  defence  of  France.  Strange 
it  was  that,  at  this  battle  Paul  was  unharmed,  and  without 
a  single  wound,  while  Jean  was  severely  wounded.  Paul 
had  now  the  chance  to  repay  in  part  Jean's  kindness  at 
Marengo,  where  he  saved  his  life.  Jean  soon  recovered 
from  his  injury,  and  he  and  Paul  being  in  the  same  regi- 
ment, were  in  the  battles  -of  Eylau  and  Friedland,  and 
when  the  army  of  Napoleon  moved  south,  they  both,  with 
the  third  regiment,  went  into  garrison  at  Leghorn,  and  re- 
mained there  until  Joachim  Murat  was  placed  in  the  posi- 
tion of  king  of  Naples. 


amm 


64 


EXILES  OF  LOUISIANA. 


BOOK    VI. 


VILANI   PALACE. 


I    •lilli 


.:'       I 


'iiis 


I. 

A  Merciful  King. 

Liberty  won  a  victory  at  Jena,  yet  the  memory  of  the 
conflict  is  full  of  mournful  pathos.  Murat  is  now  king  of 
Naples.  He  is  the  noble  king  of  the  people  —  not  the 
despotic  king  of  the  nobles.  It  was  joy  to  his  heart  to 
see  a  stately  ship  sail  into  the  bay  of  Naples,  bearing  aloft 
the  proud  ensign  of  the  stars  and  stripes  of  the  glad  Re- 
publicans across  the  sea.  Right  joyful  would  it  be  for  such 
generous  souls,  if  the  glad  songs  of  liberty  could  be  sung 
to  sympathizing  hearts  in  every  land.  That  the  sunshine 
of  peace  would  drive  away  from  every  nation,  from  every 
household,  the  dismal  shadows  of  relentless  war,  and 
kings,  presidents,  law-makers,  and  rulers,  deal  honestly 
and  justly  with  the  people. 

Paul  Lorraine  and  his  good  friend  Jean,  are  at  Leghorn, 
as  their  regiments  were  being  garrisoned  at  that  place, 
with  Col.  Count  Vilani  as  commander  of  the  garrison. 
His  headquarters  were  established  tliere.  Iphi  is  still  the 
happy  flower-girl  we  left  at  Leghorn  a  few  year^  ago,  acting 
as  the  good  angel  to  the  declining  years  of  her  aged  par- 
ents. A  little  sad,  perhaps,  owing  to  the  absence  of  her 
Jean,  as  she  called  him,  but  his  return  had  brought  to  her 


A  MERCIFUL  KING. 


65 


face  the  smile  of  joy.  This  girl  in  the  lowest  walks  of 
life,  had  learned  a  grand  philosophy  in  human  happiness, 
that  is  not  taught  in  the  female  seminary,  or  in  the  college, 
or  any  institution  of  learning.  It  did  not  come  to  her 
through  the  study  of  ancient  lore,  the  study  of  the  dead 
languages,  the  splendid  songs  of  the  poet,  the  eloquence 
of  the  orator,  or  the  brilliant  pages  of  history  wrought  out 
by  the  genius  of  the  historian.  Her  innocent,  untutored 
heart  said  to  her,  "  Iphi,  the  only  true  foundation  for  hap- 
piness to  us  mortals,  is  by  making  others  happy."  Virtue 
says  crown  all  with  smiles  —  vice,  curse  all  with  tears. 
She  still  went  to  the  palace  of  Vilani  with  flowers  and 
fruits,  where  she  met  the  siren  smile  of  Verono,  the  lust- 
ful gaze  of  Count  Vilani  and  the  hard  features  of  Geno. 
There  were  tim£s  when  this  grand  palace  and  its  inmates 
would  cast  a  chilling  shadow  on  her  young  heart,  but  she 
was  happy,  her  parents  were  contented.  Jean  had  come 
back  well,  and  full  of  joy,  and  she  never  dreamed  that 
any  one  would  do  her  harm,  or:  make  her  the  victim  of 
base  schemes  and  sinful  purposes.  Sad  is  it  to  think  that 
innocence  and  virtue,  relying  on  the  truth  and  sincerity  of 
others,  are  so  easily  betrayed. 

Verono  was  the  reverse  of  Iphi ;  her  secret  hate  for  the 
humble  flower-girl  was  intense.  Were  Iphi  upon  the  altar 
of  sacrifice,  to  appease  an  offended  goddess,  she  would 
have  bro!ight  no  offering  to  save.  The  tears  of  innocence 
and  beaut)'  would  but  aggravate  her  passion  of  hate  and 
malice.  Shv^  would  save  if  the  act  would  be  instrumental 
in  the  advaiAcement  of  her  lust  for  power  and  the  unholy 
flame  of  ambition,  that  had  consumed  every  virtue  and 
every  generous  feeling  of  her  heart. 

Verono  w:is  Iphi  reversed.    The  vase  of  life  and  joy 


ffT", 


'IT 


*■«■■ 


Hi! 


1 

i! 
i 

! 
1 

u 

'1^ 

I: 


%\ 


66 


EXILES   OF  LOUISIANA. 


was  reversed  into  an  urn  of  death  and  sorrow.  The  poi- 
son concealed  in  the  head  of  the  serpent,  with  its  shining 
•.liaiiiond  eyes,  so  skilfully  wrought  on  the  ring  on  her 
finger  was  no  more  deadly  to  human  life,  than  the  poison 
in  her  heart  was  deadly  to  human  happiness.  Silently  and 
fatally,  the  serpent  was  charming  the  nightingale,  so  lull  of 
sweet  song,  to  destruction. 

Verono,  wrapt  in  her  dark  and  terrible  thoughts,  was 
seated  in  one  of  the  most  gorgeous  apartments  of  the 
Vilani  palace,  surrounded  by  every  luxury  and  splendor 
that  wealth  and  art  could  procure.  She  was  in  the  pres- 
ence of  Da  Vinci's  portraits  of  her  ancestors,  taken  from 
life.  One  of  them  was  a  female  form,  young  in  years,  that 
glowed  with  angelic  beauty.  Surely  those  eyes  are  alive 
with  the  grand  thoughts  of  a  living  brain.  Surely  those 
lips  will  utter  gentle  words  of  love  and  affection.  Were 
you  to  gaze  upon  that  picture,  long  would  your  heart  wish 
to  linger  and  dwell  in  the  presence  of  its  exalted  inspira- 
tion. When  you  turn  and  leave  it,  that  image  with  eyes 
and  lips  so  full  of  truth,  sincerity  and  love,  would  ever 
cling  to  your  memory. 

Yet  all  this  did  not  move  Verono  from  weaving  some 
dark  scheme,  that  her  fertile  brain  had  wrought  out,  to 
gratify  her  heart's  deadly  lust  of  power  and  ambition.  She 
uttered  these  ominous  words :  "  There  are  too  many  wit- 
nesses to  the  accursed  secrets  of  my  life.  Count  Vilani  is 
in  love,  yes,  in  love  in  his  way,  with  that  pretty,  simple 
face  of  the  flower-girl.  I  will  use  the  one  to  destroy  and 
blast  the  other.  That  wolf  Geno,  I  will  drag  into  the 
meshes  of  the  net,  and  cast  him  into  the  pit.  Then  there 
is  left  Alonzo.  Ha,  ha,  ha,  right  easily  can  I  control  the 
simple  Alonzo,  and  control  him  to  my  liking.    Then  shall 


A  MERCIFUL  KING. 


67 


rhe  poi- 
shining 
on  her 
2  poison 
ntly  and 
o  full  of 

hts,  was 
\  of  the 
splendor 
;he  pres- 
:en  from 
:ars,  that 
are  alive 
ely  those 
1.  Were 
sart  wish 
inspira- 
/ith  eyes 
uld  ever 

ng  some 
t  out,  to 
DH.  She 
lany  wit- 
Vilani  is 
y,  simple 
itroy  and 
into  the 
len  there 
ntrol  the 
hen  shall 


I  be  the  grand  triumphant  mistress  of  this  piUacc,  and  llial 
hidden  wealth,  concealed  away  in  secret  places,  and  cov- 
ered with  the  dark  pall  of  crime.  Why  is  it  that  my  soul 
loves  to  dwell  in  these  gloomy  shadows  ?  It  is  because 
they  suggest  to  me  vengeance,  power,  and  gratified  ambi 
tion.  1  will  be  but  avenging  my  wrongs.  Vilaiii  betrayed 
me  ;  led  me  from  virtue  into  crime.  Now  to  lu'',  thcrt'  is 
enchantment  in  the  gloomy  realms  of  iniquity.  Doubtless 
the  evil-  spirit  that  turned  the  hapi)iness  of  I'.den  into 
anguish  and  woe,  had  fiendish  delight  in  its  work  of  ruin, 
and  longed  for  more  victims  to  drink  from  the  poisoned 
cup.  I  must  have  victims  to  appease  the  cruel  demon  en- 
shrined in  my  soul.  Henceforward,  there  is  nothing  left 
for  me  but  ambition,  proud,  lofty  ambition,  to  rule  and 
to  ruin. 

"These  plans  may  leave  myself  and  Alonzo  alone ;  1 
the  mistress,  lie  the  slave.  Should  he  dare  to  disobey  me, 
or  spurn  my  least  commands,  how  easily  that  little  talis- 
man [lookin^  at  the  ring]  could  forever  silence  the  last 
witness  ol  ;.  _^  shame  and  crime.  Its  slightest  sting  is 
death.'  It  is  said  by  some  wise  ones,  that  my  ancestors 
used  such  instruments  to  open  the  pathway  for  the  triuniph 
of  ambition.     If  so,  why  not  I  ?" 

Alonzo  enters  with  a  meek  and  suppliant  air,  and  says, — 

"I  hope  I  am  not  intruding  on  the  privacy  of  my  lady, 
or  disturbing  her  meditations.     If  so,  I  ask* pardon." 

''  Pardon  is  surely  granted  my  best  friend.  Really  there 
is  no  intrusion.  1  was  this  moment  thinking  of  summon- 
ing you  to  my  presence,  Alonzo.  I  have  some  thoughts 
to  suggest ;  you  are  surely  most  welcome." 

"  Do  you  know  that  I  was  right  in  my  conjectures,"  she 
continued,  "that  Vilani  had  fallen  in  love  with  the  pretty 


1.  i 


PIT'  ^ 


mm 


mmmmmmm 


mmma 


ttatmntm 


V 


fjlj 

■jl 


-'i 


I  '•'",/'  / 


"f'if' 


i<   I', 


^■'1   T 


68 


EXILES    OF  LOUISIANA. 


face  of  this  simple  flower-girl  ?  ha,  ha,  ha !  How  ridicu- 
lous !  how  absurd  !  But  Alonzo,  this  dull,  monotonous  life 
M^e  are  now  leading,  with  that  dread  mystery  hanging  like  a 
cloud  over  us,  with  Vilani's  licentious  smile,  and  Geno's 
\  illainous  looks  makes  life  here  in  this  palace  dull,  insipid^ 
and  tasteless.  I  have  resolved  to  gratify  his  passion  after 
his  style,  or  rather  Vilani's  plan  of  dethroning  virtue  — 
with  the  mockery  of  the  sanctity  of  marriage.  You  have 
made  for  him  an  excellent  priest  on  several  occasions,  and 
I  propose  to  have  you  try  your  skill  by  uniting  the  noble- 
man with  the  peasant  girl,  Iphi.  Alonzo,  I  have  a  keen 
relish  for  this  interesting  performance,  for  well  you  know 
that  I  was  myself  a  victim  :  and  it  would  please  me  so 
much  to  see  others  fall  before  this  hypocritical  monster; 
ha,  ha,  ha!  It  makes  you  tremble;  sorely  my  Alonzo  is 
not  a  coward  ?  " 

"  Pardon  me.  Lady  Verono.  I  was  thinking  that  this 
might  lead  to  the  disclosure  of  secrets,  that  we  might  all 
wish  to  conceal." 

"All  folly,  man  ;  there  is  nothing  to  conceal.  What  do 
I  care  for  the  cowardly,  crave-  gossips  of  Leghorn,  or  all 
Italy.  I  could  fell  them  with  frowns.  I  tell  you  this 
leads  to  power  and  wealth.  Listen,  —  do  my  bidding. 
All  you  are  required  to  do  is  to  say  nothing  —  look  and 
act  b)'  instructions.  You  may  have  to  put  on  priestly 
robes;  take  the  hoi)  book,  mumble  some  blessings  and 
prayers  ;  just  as  you  lm\e  often  done  before  to  please 
Vilani,  and  this  will  also  be  to  him  a  pleasing  service." 

"  Lady  Verono,  1  fear  — yet  I  must  obey  your  commands 
to  the  letter.  Instruct  me  when  the  time  comes,  and  I  am 
your  humble,  obedient  servant  and  friend." 

"Good  Alonzo,  I  know  that  to  do  my  bidding  is  to  thee 


A  MEJiCIFUL  KING, 


69 


a  pleasure,  and  I  shall  be  sure  and  quick  in  rewarding  you 
for  your  friendship  and  kindness.  I  will  see  to  it  that  you 
have  proper  instructions  to  perform  your  part,  so  that  this 
drama  will  result  to  our  liking  and  gain.  You  know  that 
while  this  palace  is  hereditary  in  this  family,  yet  to  a  very 
great  extent  you  and  I  are  mere  tenants.  It  matters  not 
now  that  I  should  tell  you  my  plans,  for  I  must  look  well 
to  the  events  that  may  arise  in  the  progress  of  things,  and 
if  my  good  Alonzo  has  perfect  faith  in  my  tact,  skill  and 
daring,  he  will  follow  and  obey  orders."  Alonzo  expressed 
himself  as  having  his  fate  in  the  hands  of  Verono.  He  was 
well  aware  that  he  dare  not  deny  this  proud,  cruel,  and 
talented  woman  perfect  supremacy  over  him  in  all  things. 
He  knew  full  well  that  in  that  wonderful  brain  and  heart 
there  was  a  will  and  ambition  that  would  hesitate  at  noth- 
ing to  accomplish  a  purpose.  He  knew  from  the  experi- 
ence of  former  days,  when  terrible  acts  were  committed, 
that  he  dare  not  even  argue  the  feasibility  of  he  schemes, 
that  she  had  adopted  with  regard  to  Vilani  and  Iphi,  and 
that  to  interfere  with  any  suggestion  or  objection  would  be 
to  hazard  his  own  existence. 


^1. 


II. 


Count  Vilanf. 

Colonel  Vilani  had  his  headquarters  in  the  garrison 
under  his  control  and  command.  In  this  garrison  was  the 
regiment  to  which  Paul  Lorraine  and  Jean  Gendron  were 
attached.  It  is  known  to  many  persons  that  the  soldiers 
in  the  ranks   always   form    a   correct   conclusion   of   the 


Ml 


w 


iliiuiiiiiiiiaiUiliit 


!:  :! 


^'-IVtiMllI:!'! 


■I'^l!' 


I       '  I'i     ii 


■n! 


Ii! 


:ll 


:^l!!|il 


ii 


70 


EXILES  OF  LOUISIANA 


character  of  their  commander,  or  the  peculiar  traits  of 
character  of  each  prominent  officer.  Col.  Vilani  was 
very  despotic  and  unreasonable  in  many  of  his  rules  and 
orders.  He  was  also  of  that  temperament  that  he  could 
not  conceal  his  prejudices.  Pride  and  vanity  were  ex- 
ceedingly prominent.  He  was  continually  guilty  of  little, 
petty  acts  of  tyranny  towards  this  regiment  to  which  Paul 
Lorraine  was  attached,  on  account  of  its  complete  French 
character.  When  he  had  the  appointing  of  subordinates, 
he  selected  men  of  the  same  cast  of  character  as  himself, 
and  generally  Italians.  He  was  cunning  enough,  however, 
not  to  commit  any  overt  act,  upon  which  could  be  based  a 
charge  with  any  possibility  of  maintaining  it.  In  fact,  his 
peculiar  friends  and  associates  would  swear  him  out  of 
any  difficulty  whatever.  Thus  it  was  that  there  was  a 
silent,  growing  hatred  in  the  regiment  for  Vilani.  Paul 
Lorraine  had  been  raised  to  the  position  of  second  lieu- 
tenant, and  had  been  always  prompt  to  allay  any  feeling 
against  him,  for  fear  that  it  would  break  out  into  open  rup- 
ture. Louis  Dejon  had  been  drafted  into  one  of  the  regi- 
ments in  the  garrison  that  was  stationed  in  the  immediate 
control  of  the  officers  at  headquarters,  and  had  been,  on 
account  of  his  friendship  for  Iphi  and  her  parents,  a 
good,  sincere  friend  of  Jean's,  and  also  of  Paul  I^orraine's. 
Although  Louis  was  an  Italian,  these  three  young  men 
became  very  sincere  friends  and  companions,  and  doubt- 
less would  stand  by  one  another  in  any  emergency  or 
danger.  Oftentimes  they  would  relate  to  one  another  the 
events  oi  their  lives,  and  those  connected  with  them,  so 
that  there  soon  was  formed  a  bond  of  iniion  and  affection 
that  added  much  to  their  individual  happiness  and  con- 
tentment in  the  dull  hours  of  garrison  life. 


M 


COUNT  VILANI, 


71 


raits  of 
ani   was 
jles  and 
le  could 
were  ex- 
of  little, 
lich  Paul 
J  French 
•rdinates, 
himself, 
however, 
based  a 
fact,  his 
1  out  of 
e  was   a 
ni.     Paul 
ond  lieu- 
ly  feeling 
3pen  rui> 
the  regi- 
nniediate 
been,  on 
arents,  a 
orraine's. 
nng  men 
d  doubt- 
gency  or 
other  the 
them,  so 
at'fecliou 
and  con- 


4 


Time  moved  along;  the  Lady  Verono  still  bestowed 
upon  the  flower  girl  her  smiles  and  patronage,  and  Iphi's 
life  was  still  tranquil  in  the  performance  of  affection  and 
duty.  Verono  seemed  now  at  times  more  inquisitive,  and 
her  searching  questions  would  at  times  startle  Iphi,  as 
having  some  sinister  motive  in  this  curiosity. 

She  said  to  her  on  one  occasion,  "  Iphi,  you  have  a 
good  friend  besides  your  parents.     Have  you  not .-'  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  lady,  there  is  Louis  Dejon,  who  is  to  us  a 
good  friend,  and  has  been  so  for  many  years  !  He  has 
labored  for  us  in  the  garden,  and  is  a  good  hand  a*" 
flowers  and  vegetables.  He  is  now  in  the  army  and  in  the 
garrison." 

"  Have  you  not  others  ? " 

"  Oh,  yes ;  there  is  Jean  Gendron,  who  is  my  best 
friend,  and  he  is  so  very  good,  and  noble,  my  lady,  and 
I  love  Jean  very  much." 

*'  Then  Iphi,  I  see  this  Jean  is  your  sweetheart,  and  you 
are  lovers.  Well,  is  this  all  your  friends  ?  And  Jean  is  a 
soldier,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"  Yes,  my  lady,  and  these  two  —  Louis  and  Jean,  have 
formed  a  friendship  with  a  noble-looking  French  soldier, 
whose  name  is  Paul  Lorraine,  who  is  a  good  friend  to  us 
all." 

"  Paul  Lorraine !  The  name  indicates  good  lineage, 
and  he  is  a  soldier.  Well,  Iphi,  you  have  an  army  at 
your  back  —  so  many  gallant  soldiers  —  and  one  of  them 
a  lover." 

"  Yes,  my  lady,  but  I  put  no  reliance  on  that.  I  do  not 
like  the  necessity  that  calls  so  many  good  young  men  in 
the  army  to  be  killed.  It  were  far  better  they  were  em- 
ployed in  some  useful  industry,  than  wasting  their  time  in 


\\ 


w 


UMMI 


72 


EXILES  OF  LOUISIANA. 


■  > 


■  t 


-iiiiij 


^l!^ 


^wm 


camps,  marches,  battle  fields  and  garrisons.  I  treat  every 
one  kindly  and  justly,  and  every  one  seems  to  be  my 
friend.  I  do  not  know  any  one  who  would  harm  or  injure 
me.  I  know  not  of  even  one  that  I  have  cause  to 
fear." 

"  Iphi,"  replied  Verono,  "  you  are  but  little  versed  in 
this  world's  ways  —  its  passions  and  its  ambitions." 

Thus  the  time  passed,  until  one  day  Verono  invited 
Iphi  up  into  one  of  the  fine  apartments  in  the  palace, 
and  she  was  highly  pleased  with  the  works  of  art,  and  the 
splendid  furniture  and  embellishment  that  surrounded  her. 
The  most  humble  Italian  peasants  have  excellent  taste,  and 
a  just  appreciation  of  the  beautiful  in  art.  They  inherit 
this  fine  taste  from  their  ancestors.  If  an  Italian  buys  a 
piece  of  sculpture  or  painting,  or  builds  a  house,  or  fits  up 
apartments  or  rooms,  he  evinces  excellent  taste,  and  his 
judgment  in  such  matters  is  artistic. 

Verono  says  to  Iphi,  "  Would  you  not  like  to  reside  in 
this  fine  mansion,  among  these  beautiful  things,  ride  in  a 
carriage,  have  your  servants,  and  live  like  a  grand  lady  in 
fine  style,  and  have  plenty  of  money,  and  buy  your  parents 
a  nice  farm  and  home.  I  ask  you  this,  for  Vilani  is  will- 
ing to  make  you  his  wife.  He  loves  you  dearly,  for  you 
are  so  beautiful.  Then  you  will  be  mistress  of  all  this 
house  and  servants,  and  every  one  will  obey  your  com- 
mands." 

*■  Oh,  my  lady,  you  are  but  jesting,  or  it  is  perhaps  a 
piece  of  mirthfulness  on  your  part ;  or  is  it  a  mockery  of 
my  humble  condition  ?  " 

She  gazed  intently  into  the  face  of  lady  Verono,  and 
saw  to  her  dismay  that  her  words  had  a  terrible  meaning. 
For  the  first  time  her  trembling  heart  was  shadowed  with 


COUNT  VILANI. 


73 


the  dark  spirit  of  evil,  vaguely  outlined  to  her  sight,  but 
none  the  less  terrible. 

The  beautiful  form  of  the  Lady  Verono,  that  she  loved 
so  well,  seemed  to  pass  from  her,  and  left  her  in  the 
presence  of  a  stern,  relentless  fiend.  For  a  a  moment  slic 
thought  she  was  in  a  horrible  dream,  and  the  tarrible 
abyss  that  was  yawning  in  her  pathway  was  but  the  delu- 
sion of  a  feverish  brain.  In  a  moment  she  regained  her 
senses,  and  saw  her  terrible  situation. 

Lady  Verono  changed  her  tone  to  one  of  tenderness 
and  compassion  and  then  said  : 

'•  Iphi,  hear  me.  This  is  the  proposal  of  Vilani.  Be 
composed,  and  do  not  be  so  startled  and  terrified  j  gather 
your  senses  I'.bout  you  and  act  calmly." 

"  I  will,  my  iady,  and  I  will  answer  your  question  calmly 
and  sincerely.  You  asked  me  if  I  would  not  like  to  live 
in  this  palace,  have  carriages  to  ride  in,  and  servants,  and 
be  the  mistress  of  all  this  wealth  and  elegance.  I  say  no, 
my  lady — I  was  born  among  the  poor,  raised  among  the 
humble ;  and,  like  Jesus,  '  I  love  the  poor.'  He  said  the 
humility  of  this  earth  should  be  exalted  in  heaven.  And 
when  he  said,  '  suffer  little  children,'  he  called  the  child  of 
the  cottage  as  well  as  the  child  of  the  palace.  Tlie 
Lifinite  said,  through  the  holy  One  who  died  on  the  cross, 
*  love  one  another.'  Lady,  the  splendors  of  earth  beget 
pride,  envy  and  ambition.  The  humble  cot  where  lives 
those  dear  ones  of  my  heart,  is  to  me  the  dearest  spot  on 
all  this  earth.  I  would  not  cast  from  me  the  happiness  of 
parental  love,  were  you  to  give  me  in  exchange  a  crown, 
sceptre,  or  kingdon.  My  parents  are  happy  because  their 
wants  are  few,  and  what  little  they  have  of  this  world's 
goods  they  share  with  those  in  need.     And   my  lady,   if 


M;VJ 


^J 


f..];i 


■t.^ 


5 1 


ww= 


IBBHtttKI 


74 


EXILES  OF  LOUISIANA. 


you  only  knew  how  grateful  they  felt  for  your  kindness  to 
me,  and  how  they  have  prayed  so  fervently  for  your  happi- 
ness, you  surely  would  love  them.  There  is  my  dear  Jean, 
I  would  not  cast  him  from  me  for  all  the  grand  things  you 
could  do  for  me  in  this  world.  He  is  so  good,  true,  and 
noble.  It  would  break  his  heart ;  and  you  yourself,  dear 
lady,  would  pity  his  grief  and  sorrow.  Were  you  to  wit- 
ness the  agony  of  my  poor  old  father  and  mother,  were  1 
to  desert  them  for  a  life  of  splendid  dishonor,  it  would 
move  you  to  tears.  The  song  of  the  bird  is  sad,  impris- 
oned even  in  a  cage  of  gold.  The  lamb  at  nightfall  seeks 
the  parental  fold,  and  the  young  bird  the  nest  where 
loving  wings  are  spread  for  its  protection  —  so  would  I 
away  to  yon  humble  cot,  to  bask  in  the  love  of  those 
good  hearts,  who  have  watched  with  tender  care  over  me 
all  the  years  of  my  life.  Oh,  my  lady,  it  cannot  be,  it 
cannot  be." 

Lady  Verono,  unmoved  by  the  tears  and  the  pathetic 
appeals  of  Iphi,  says,  "  Why,  simpleton,  can  it  be  possible 
that  any  one  in  this  world  is  so  void  of  ambition  ?  The 
story  of  the  cross  is  a  myth ;  Jesus,  lover  of  mankind,  a 
delusion.  This  woeful  tale  of  crucifixion  will  pass  away, 
like  the  Egyption  worship  of  Isis  and  the  Grecian  worship 
of  Jupiter,  into  the  shadows  of  the  past,  and  vanish  like 
the  brilliant  conceptions  of  poetic  dreams.  Why,  you 
would  drag  the  church,  with  all  its  grandeur  and  magnifi- 
cence, its  pride  and  ambition,  down  to  a  level  with  Beth- 
lehem—  its  manger,  its  outcast  people,  driven  from  the 
splendor  of  Jerusalem.  What  folly !  Money,  gold,  will 
cure  the  wounded  hearts  of  the  parents  As  to  this  foolish 
love  of  your  Jean,  the  world  scorns  the  paltry  sentiment. 
Let  your  Jean  march  off  to  the  battle-field ;  you  be  proud 


COUNT  VILANI. 


is 


iness  to 
ir  happi- 
ar  Jean, 
ngs  you 
rue,  and 
elf,  dear 

to  wit- 
,  were  1 
t  would 

impris- 
11  seeks 
t  where 
would  I 
)f  those 
over  me 
)t  be,  it 

pathetic 
possible 

?  The 
ikind,  a 
away, 
worship 
ish  like 
hy,  you 
nagnifi- 
h  Beth- 
om  the 
Id,  will 

foolish 
itiment. 
5  proud 


and  ambitious.     It  is  your  fate.     Accept  it  and  be  con- 
tent." 

"  My  lady,  these  cruel  words  you  have  spoken  are 
terrible.  These  vain,  idle  worships  of  antiquity,  I  know 
not  of,  nor  do  I  care  for  them.  Jerusalem,  with  all  its 
splendor,  was  destroyed  through  its  vanity  and  ambition. 
Yet,  Jesus  sorrowed  for  it,  with  all  its  crimes  and  misfor- 
tunes. The  religion  of  Jesus  has  an  imperishable  gran- 
deur :  it  is  love  for  all  mankind,  and  will  be  with  him  for- 
ever; follow  him  in  all  his  wanderings  in  life,  hes,!  his 
wounds,  cure  his  anguish,  and  dry  his  tears.  It  cannot 
perish,  until  every  noble  impulse,  every  grand  emotion  of 
love,  truth,  and  mercy  shall  perish  in  the  human  heart. 
You  ask  me  to  forsake  my  parents  and  my  dear  Jean. 
When  my  heart  ceases  to  love  them  with  a  holy,  tender 
love,  it  will  cease  to  throb  in  this  world.  Sooner  would  I 
die  than  to  say  I  have  ceased  to  love  them  and  they  are 
no  longer  dear  to  me."  Iphi  could  see  no  consolation  in 
the  stern,  unfeeling  look  of  Verono.  This  woman,  whom 
she  had  all  the  time  loved  so  well  for  her  kindness,  was 
now  to  her  terrible  and  appalling.  "  Then  you  have  no 
pity  for  me.  You  cannot  say  to  me,  with  kindness  and 
compassion,  '  Go,  Iphi,  go  and  seek  happiness  in  thine 
own  way  .'* '  " 

"  No,  foolish  girl,  all  I  can  say  is,  it  is  your  fate ;  accept 
it  and  be  content ; "  and  she  left  the  apartment. 

Poor  Iphi !  the  dark  abyss  was  before  her ;  how  terrible, 
that  this  pure  and  lofty  soul  should  be  the  victim  of  such 
cruelty  and  wrong!  She  clasped  her  hands  together,  and 
in  the  deepest  tones  of  agony  and  despair,  exQlaimed, 
"  O  God,  I  am  lost,  I  am  lost.  My  poor  father,  my  poor 
mother,  and  my  Jean.     Oh,  how  their  hearts  will  bleed 


!'■    I 


m 


'fT 


76 


EXILES   OF  LOUISIANA, 


for  me."  She  could  stand  no  longer,  and  sank  tremblingly 
upon  a  seat  with  her  face  buried  in  her  hands,  until  a 
flood  of  tears  for  a  time  soothed  the  aching  heart. 

These  two  human  souls  had  come  to  earth  in  the  same 
Christian  land,  the  same  fold,  the  same  church  and 
creed,  yet  how  widely  different  in  thought,  character,  and 
action.  Iphi,  like  the  wise  men  of  the  East,  when  the 
star  of  Bethlehem  led  them  to  the  infant  laid  in  the  man- 
ger, and  appearing  thus  in  lowly  life,  were  not  dismayed 
or  disheartened,  but  worshipped  him  as  the  holy  one,  and 
said,  "  The  splendors  of  earth  are  nothing  in  the  balance 
against  the  glory  of  the  Infinite." 

She  had  received  in  her  young  heart  all  that  fine  inspi- 
ration that  comes  from  great  virtue  connected  with  perfect 
humility,  so  prominent  in  the  life  of  Jesus.  She  loved 
his  name,  for  it  was  full  of  the  glad  memories  of  acts  of 
charity  and  mercy.  His  life  among  the  lowly,  the  poor, 
and  the  outcast,  came  to  her  view  clothed  with  ineffable 
grandeur. 

She  practiced  to  others,  charity,  kindness  and  mercy ; 
and  the  happiness  she  brought  to  them,  filled  her  life 
with  perfect  joy.  She  was  ever  the  good  Samaritan,  to 
turn  from  her  pathway  to  heal  the  wounds  of  the  dying 
stranger. 

Lady  Verono  was  the  reverse  of  all  this.  She  could 
not  conceive  how  any  one  could  be  enraptured  over  a  life 
of  humility.  This  wonderful  feeling  of  love  for  Jesus  and 
parental  affection,  manifested  in  the  action  of  Iphi,  was  to 
her  mind  the  very  extreme  of  folly.  She  looked  upon 
this  story  of  the  Cross  just  as  the  Egyptian  looked  upon 
the  story  of  Isis  and  her  lost  Osiris,  or  the  Greek  upon 
his  Jupiter,  enthroned  in  grandeur  on  Mount  Olympus. 


COUNT  VI LAN L 


77 


She  did  not  accuse  the  church  with  misrepresenting  the 
teachings  of  Jesus,  for  she  admired  the  church  for  its 
pride,  power,  splendor,  and  ambition. 

She  would  have  justified  the  archbishop  of  Pisa,  in 
removing  by  assassination  the  Medici,  even  to  give  place 
to  the  Pazzi ;  if  this  act  resulted  in  addition  of  power  and 
splendor  to  the  church.  She  would,  of  course,  justify 
Catherine  de  Medicis  of  France  in  all  her  acts  of  ghastly 
cruelty,  if  she  realized  the  lofty  aims  of  her  towering  am- 
bition. She  would  have  passed  on  the  other  side,  where 
lay  the  wounded  and  dying  stranger,  for  she  knew  no 
prompting  of  pity  or  compassion. 

Verono's  great  talents,  wealth,  and  high  social  position, 
made  her  life  brilliant,  and  drew  the  admiration  of  man- 
kind. 

Iphi  had  none  of  these  things  to  offer.  She  was  poor, 
humble  and  content.  All  she  had  to  offer  to  this  world's 
homage  and  praise  was  a  grand  soul,  formed  and  fashioned 
in  the  image  of  God. 


%% 


:!.< 
%- 


i: 


78 


EXILES  OE  LOUISIANA. 


BOOK     VII. 


I. 

Iphi  Betrayed. 

The  Shepherd  goes  to  the  wolf, 
To  seek  the  lamb  that  is  lost. 

The  parents  of  Iphi  were  much  alarmed  at  her  absence. 
They  watched  for  her  through  the  twilight  and  the  mid- 
night hour  ;  the  dawn  of  day  came  and  passed  away  with 
the  bright  morn  shining  on  land  and  sea,  yet  she  came 
not.  This  was  sorrowful.  Surely  some  calamity  had 
befallen  this  child,  the  prop  of  old  age,  the  joyful  light. 

There  was  to  them  a  strange,  fearful  foreboding  of  evil. 

Vejir  after  year,  Iphi  had  returned  to  her  home  as  sure 
as  the  night  follows  the  day.  They  could  make  no  possi- 
ble conjecture  of  what  had  happened  her.  She  had  no 
enemies.  It  was  not  possible  that  this  innocent  child 
could  be  the  object  of  any  criminal  purpose,  that  there 
was  any  one  so  base  and  cruel  as  to  wrong  or  injure  their 
darling  child.  They  knew  nothing  of  the  perils  of  a 
world  they  had  seen  but  little  of.  The  first  suggestion 
that  came  to  their  minds,  was  to  send  to  the  palace  to  see 
if  anything  could  be  learned  as  to  her  absence. 

One  of  the  kind,  sympathizing  neighbors  volunteered  to 
look  up  Louis  and  Jean,  and  also  to  go  to  the  palace  and 
make  inquiry  of  the  whereabouts  of  the  lost  Iphi.  He 
returned,  bringing  both  Louis  and  Jean  with  him.  He 
had  also  been  to  the  palace,  and  came  with  the  report  from 


I  PHI  BETRAYED. 


79 


the  servant  that  she  had  been  there,  but  had  departed 
at  about  the  usual  hour. 

Jean  and  Louis  urged  the  father  and  mother  not  to  de- 
spair. They  firmly  believed  that  she  would  be  found 
unharmed,  and  that  nothing  would  be  left  undone  to  find 
her  out  and  rescue  her.  They  both  felt  anxious  to  see 
Paul  Lorraine,  to  consult  vith  him,  and  advise  about  the 
best  way  to  act  in  this  soirowful  affair.  Poor  Jean  con- 
cealed his  agony  and  tears.  His  alarm  was  far  greater 
than  any  one  could  discover  by  his  outward  action.  He 
had  within  him  a  dreadful,  vague  impression  that  the  vil- 
lainy of  Colonel  Count  Vilani  wab  in  some  way  the  cause 
of  Iphi's  abduction,  and  when  he,  Paul,  and  Louis  got 
together  and  talked  over  the  matter,  Louis  said  that  sev- 
eral times  when  Colonel  Vilani  had  his  ctrrousals,  he  over- 
heard his  contemptible  vain  boast  of  the  number  of  his 
conquests  in  the  court  of  love. 

Paul  saw  with  dismay,  that  there  was,  alas,  to  much  truth 
in  the  conclusions  of  Jean  and  Louis,  that  poor  Iphi  was 
in  the  power  of  Vilani.  He  was  the  commander  of  the 
garrison,  prominent  among  the  nobility,  wealthy  and  influ- 
ential. The  whole  entire  police  force  in  the  most  of  the 
Italian  States,  are  the  willing  tools  of  the  nobility.  Surely 
so  when  there  is  money  to  bribe  and  corrupt.  Paul  saw 
that  no  charge  could  be  made  to  any  authority,  with  the 
mere  surmise  that  he  was  the  man  who  was  at  the  bottom 
of  this  villainy. 

If  Paul  had  any  evidence  whatever,  he  would  have 
applied  to  the   king  of  Naples  for  redress. 

But  there  was  nothing  upon  which  to  base  a  charge. 
He  therefore  resolved  to  save  her  at  the  peril  of  his  life. 
He  thought  of  his  own  dear  Annetta  so  far  away  from  him. 


i 


i 


80 


EXILES  OF  LOUISIANA, 


yet  she  .seemed  to  be  present  urging  him  to  rescue  Iphi. 

Paul  saw  that  some  plan  must  be  adopted  to  enter  the 
palace,  aiul  find  out  if  the  poor  girl  was  in  fact  kept 
imprisoned  there  against  her  will,  and  if  so,  he  would 
take  enough  force  with  him,  to  rescue  her  at  all  hazards, 
and  depend  on  the  justice  of  the  cause. 

Ho  thought  of  Louis  :  he  knew  that  Louis  was  acquainted 
with  Geno,  and  believed  he  could  manage  Geno,  so  that 
he  would  divulge  something  that  would  lead  to  the 
knowledge  they  desired. 


11. 

Louis  Dejon. 

Louts  was  not  long  in  throwing  himself  in  the  way 
of  Geno. 

"  Well,  comrade,"  says  Geno,  upon  meeting  Louis, 
"what's  the  word,  good  or  bad  ?" 

"  Bad,  faithful  Geno,  very  bad ;  I  am  suffering  with 
poverty,  poverty !  I  see  others  enjoying  themselves,  while 
I,  poor  soul,  have  not  wherewith  to  buy  a  glass  of  wine. 
If  I  had  some  gold,  I  would  know  how  to  spend  it,  and 
live  a  jolly  life." 

"  Louis,  I  have  ever  looked  upon  thee  as  an  honest 
knave,  and  true  to  a  comrade.  Wilst  swear  by  the  holy 
cross  to  divide,  truly  and  faithfully,  with  an  honest 
friend  ? " 

"  I  will  swear  Geno,  to  divide  ill  the  gold  I  get  by  thy 
council  and  direction  ;   does  that  suffice  ?  " 

"It  is  enough,  Louis." 

"Then  by  my  holy  faith  I  am  your  man,  but  listen, 


LOUIS  DEJON, 


8i 


if  you  betray  mc,  my  dagger  seeks  your  heart :  remember 
this,  my  motto,  '  dead  men  are  silent.'  " 

These  words,  spoken  so  firm,  with  that  look  of  deep 
resolve,  made  the  cowardly  heart  of  Geno  tremble. 

"Never  fear  me,  good  Louis,  we  are  of  the  same  kind, 
and  comrades,  and  mus.  needs  stand  together." 

"  Now  then,  Louis,  to  the  gold.  A  comrade  in  the 
palace,  a  servant  of  Vilani,  his  name  Joseph,  he  and 
myself,  have  at  different  times  found  gold  in  unsafe 
places  in  the  palace.  We  have  gathered  it  and  divided 
it  into  two  sacks,  marking  the  sacks  in  this  way.  My 
sack  is  fastened  with  twine,  his  with  a  wire ;  they  are  con- 
cealed in  a  waste-room,  on  the  northeast  angle,  on  the 
third  floor  of  the  palace,  in  a  closet,  at  the  bottom,  under 
some  rubbish." 

*•  Well,  Geno,  what  is  to  hinder  you  from  taking  the 
gold  yourself." 

"  I  will  tell  you  Louis  why.  Joseph  and  myself  are  on 
the  watch  and  guard  together.  Before  we  go  on  duty, 
Joseph  examines  the  concealed  treasure  by  himself ;  we 
will  be  together  in  the  morning  and  examine.  The  gold 
is  gone.  I  say  Joseph  you  have  robbed  me.  When  you 
came  alone  to  examine  on  last  evening  you  done  it.  I 
threaten  his  life,  he  is  terrified,  and  trembles,  pleads  for 
mercy,  and  promises  to  soon  steal  enough  to  make  good 
my  loss.  I  am  convinced  he  is  honest,  and  say  poor 
Joseph,  I  forgive  you  this  time,  now  see  to  it  that  you  pay 
me.  Thus  you  see,  I  put  him  in  the  place  of  the  wrong 
doer,  and  I  honest  Geno,  the  sufferer.  Now  this  is  my 
offer:  I  will  give  you  the  key  of  the  postern  gate  that 
leads  to  a  secret  passage,  landing  on  the  third  floor  of  the 
palace,  through  a  sliding  panel  at  the  head  of  the  stair- 


n 


ill*!!' ill' 


^s&imsis 


82 


EXILES   OF  LOUISIANA. 


■l 

1 

way.  On  the  inside  of  the  postern  gate  you  will  find  a 
dark  lantern,  with  match,  etc.  You  will  bring  with  you 
both  sacks,  and  conceal  them  in  some  safe  place,  until 
to-morrow,  when  I  will  see  you,  and  divide  with  you 
Joseph's  sack  of  gold.     Is  it  a  bargain  ?  " 

"It  is  a  bargain,  honest  Geno,  and  I  accept  and  swear; 
but  now  tell  me,  why  this  watch  and  guard  duty  of  yours 
and  Joseph's  ?  " 

*'  That,  Louis,  does  not  concern  the  gold  ;  that  is  a 
private  affair  of  the  count's,  and  you  must  not  descend  to 
the  second  floor,  or  you  will  surely  be  discovered,  and  get 
into  trouble." 

"  But,  good  Geno,  what  is  this  little  private  affair  of  the 
count's ;  surely  you  can  trust  a  friend,  and  tell  him  this 
much,  when  it  is  of  little  importance." 

"  Well,  it  is  a  love  affair  of  the  count's,  and  you  surely 
can  get  no  pay  out  of  such  trifles  as  that ;  get  the  gold, 
and  let  the  count  and  the  lady  go  to  the  devil.  Let  the 
count  fall  in  love,  and  we  will  see  to  his  gold." 

"Is  that  all,  good  Geno  ?  and  then  I  will  surely  not  dis- 
turb the  noble  count  in  his  love  matters." 

Thus  it  was,  that  Louis  in  his  blank  face  and  fine  talk, 
had  obtained  from  Geno,  the  cunning  rogue,  all  he  de- 
sired. When  Geno  left  him,  Louis  said  to  himself, 
"  what  a  villian  he  is ;  he  even  robs  a  partner.  I  must 
now  see  Paul  and  Jean,  and  arrange  our  plans." 

After  consulting  with  them,  it  was  agreed  that  at 
midnight,  Louis  should  enter  the  palace,  and  discern, 
if  possible,  the  exact  position  of  things,  and  then  to 
act  upon  his  information,  and  to  be  prepared  at  any 
moment  to  enter  the  palace,  through  this  passage,  and 
rescue  Iphi  by  main  force  if  necessary." 


LOUIS  DEJON. 


H 


lidni^ht    hour,   he 


the 


yours 


Accordingly,  at  the 
postern  gate,  and  found  the  lantern,  and  then  proceeded 
to  the  secret  entrance,  mounted  the  stairway  with  the  aid 
of  his  lantern,  and  came  to  the  sliding  panel.  Mere  he 
took  the  precaution  to  darken  his  light,  and  then  with  the 
utmost  caution  he  moved  back  the  panel,  and  stood  in 
what  seemed  to  him  a  passage,  having  at  the  far  end  from 
where  he  stood  a  large  window,  covered  with  a  curtain, 
through  which  the  light  was  dimly  shining.  He  stopped 
and  listened,  and  he  certainly  heard  voices,  in  conver- 
sation, but  could  catch  no  words  spoken.  Soon,  two  dark 
figures  moved  across  the  disk  of  the  wi  idow,  and  they 
appeared  to  be  approaching  the  place  where  he  stood. 
At  length  he  caught  the  name  of  Paul  Lorraine  quite 
distinctly. 

He  at  once  concluded  that  it  had  some  reference  to 
Iphi.  Yet  he  could  not  hear  enough  to  make  any  con- 
nection in  the  conversation,  they  being  some  distance  from 
him,  but  evidently  coming  near. 

He  reflected  a  moment,  and  thought  his  best  course 
was  to  lie  prostrate,  close  to  the  wall  of  the  passage,  and 
far  enough  from  any  side  entrance,  in  case  they  should 
pass  out. 

Soon  they  came  quite  close  to  where  he  lay  concealed 
by  darkness.  He  heard •  the  v.ords,  "  Alonzo,  do  not  rest 
secure  in  your  position  in  the  palace,  on  account  of  any 
generosity  on  the  part  oi  Vilani,  for  he  is  base,  cruel,  and 
heardess.  That  peasant-girl  in  his  power,  he  would 
despoil  her  of  virtue,  then  command  Geno  to  assassinate 
her,  and  conceal  his  crime.  He  will  soon  be  bringing  to 
the  palace  a  wife  from  nobility  of  a  century's  growth,  and 
compel  you  and  I  to   take  positions  of  servitude,  base 


m 


i 


w 


f 


mrnin 


84 


rXILES    OF  LOUISIANA. 


% 


menials,  to  await  the  pleasure  of  the  Count  and  Countess 
Vilani." 

**  You  know  Alonzo  that  in  case  of  his  death  I  am  the 
sole  heir  of  the  name  and  fortune  of  the  house  of  Vilani 
—  and  the  offspring  of  a  legitimate  marriage,  would  for- 
ever debar  me  from  the  inheritance." 

*'  Why  not  you,  my  lady,  wed  Vilani,  and  become  the 
countess,  and  all  will  ther  end  well," 

"  I  did,  in  the  days  of  my  innocence,  wed  him  in  good 
faith;  but  you  know  the  horrid  mockery  on  his  part,  and 
the  cruel  betrayal," 

*'  Oh,  my  lady  you  have  forgiven  me  for  the  part  I  took  in 
that  accursed  crime ;  for  I  was  driven  by  desperation  to 
commit  the  deed,  and  thought  it  best,  to  save  you  from  a 
worse  fate.  Forgive  him,  he  is  anxious  ;  and  has  often 
expressed  a  desire  to  unite  the  only  two  living  lineal 
descendants  of  the  house  of  Vilani,  in  marriage." 

"  Wed  him,  Alonzo  t  I  would  just  as  soon  wed  the  serpent ; 
his  very  look  is  loathing,  his  very  touch  is  contamination. 
Wed  Count  Vilani  t  I  would  far  sooner  send  him  after  the 
murdered  Francisco,  and  cast  his  body  in  the  vaults  be- 
neath this  palace.  He  would  in  order  to  pander  to  his 
lust,  or  his  ambition,  go  before  the  Tribunal  and  charge  us 
with  the  murder  of  Francisco  ;  procure  false  witnesses, 
bribe  the  police  and  the  courts,  and  have  us  both  put  to 
death,  for  a  crime  committed  by  his  own  orders  and  com- 
mands. Yes  Alonzo,  sooner  than  again  submit  to  his 
loathing  embrace,  the  fatal  talisman  shall  do  its  evil 
work," 

"  Oh,  my  lady  that  is  cruel ;  pardon,  pardon  and  forgive 
him  j  but  when  is  this  mockery  of  Marriage  to  be  con- 
sumated  ? " 


LOUIS  DEJON 


85 


"ountess 

am  the 
f  Vilani 
luld  for- 

)me  the 


in  good 
art,  and 


[  took  in 
ation  to 
from  a 
IS  often 
I  lineal 

serpent ; 

lination. 

iter  the 

Lilts  be- 
to  his 

arge  us 

tnesses, 
put  to 

id  com- 
to  his 

its  evil 


forgi\'e 
)e  con- 


"  To-morrow  night,  when  the  cathedral  clock  strikes  the 
midnight  hour,  and  you  Alonzo,  are  commanded  to  per- 
form the  act  of  profanation." 

Louis  thus  reci  ived  more  intelligence  than  he  supposed 
was  possible.  He  was  horrified  with  Lady  Verono's  state- 
ment of  the  crimes  perpetrated  in  this  house.  Her  de- 
scription of  the  infamous  Vilani  was  terrible.  Iphi  was  in 
great  danger.  He  saw  that  she  must  be  rescued  from  her 
situation  and  that  no  time  was  to  be  lost. 

Lady  Verono  and  Alonzo  moved  back  towards  the  win- 
dow, and  were  out  of  distinct  hearing  ;  but  soon  returned, 
with  the  apparent  intention  of  separating.  They  were  not 
now  moving  as  close  together  as  when  first  they  came  in 
range  of  the  v.indow  light.  He  heard  Alonzo  ask  some 
question  as  to  Iphi  and  the  marriage  ceremony,  to  be  per- 
formed between  her  and  Count  Vilani,  and  caught  these 
words  di  t'nctly  from  Lady  Verono's  lips: 

"To-nio-i  jw  night  when  the  cathedral  clock  strikes  the 
hour  of  twelve  —  " 

For  some  time  Louis  lay  rapt  in  thought.  He  was  per- 
plexed. Should  he  retire  and  bring  back  with  him  Paul 
and  Jean  ?  or  should  he  wait  until  the  hour  of  twelve  to- 
morrow night,  and  come  prepared  to  carry  Iphi  away  from 
this  accursed  den  of  guilt  and  infamy,  at  all  hazards  ? 

The  question  of  the  money,  and  returning  the  key  to 
Geno  on  the  morrow,  perplexed  him.  if  he  left  the 
money  Geno  would  conclude  he  had  betrayed  him,  and 
might  think  and  act  so  that  it  would  interfere  with  his 
plans  in  retaining  the  key  to  the  gate,  as  well  as  the 
secret  entrance  into  the  palace. 

He  waited  for  some  time,  until  he  thought  everything 
was   quiet.     He  had   heard   the   retreating  footsteps  of 


11 


1^1 


"tl 


iHf 


am 


ii'  a 


'\h  ny 


"m- "  >f  Jl.«^  lWamWKHkfcftt»WIW^WlMaMi 


tseasKa 


86 


EXILES   OF  LOUISIANA. 


Verono  in  one  direction  and  Alonzo  in  the  other.  Then 
he  walked  along  close  to  the  wall  until  he  approached  the 
door  leading  into  the  room  described  by  Geno.  The  door 
was  unlocked,  and  he  stood  inside  of  the  room,  and 
for  a  moment  listened  to  catch  any  sound.  It  was  as 
silent  as  a  tomb.  Light  struggled  into  the  apartment 
through  the  partly  closed  shutters  ;  he  could  see  no  objects 
in  the  room  distinctly.  He  closed  the  door  behind  him 
opened  his  dark  lantern,  and  passed  its  light  slowly  arounu 
the  room.  It  w^s  as  Geno  had  said,  a  rubbish  or  waste 
room.  It  had  a  dismal  and  dreary  appearance.  Among 
the  old  rubbish  of  the  apartment  there  v;ere  some  cast- 
aside  paintings,  among  which  Louis  discovered  the  por- 
trait of  a  strange  face,  taken  in  boyhood.  On  the  back 
of  the  canvass  was  written  the  name  of  Francisco  Vilani. 
This,  then,  was  the  name  connected  with  crime,  spoken  of 
by  Verono  but  a  few  moments  since  ;  when  all  at  once  the 
dark  story  of  the  life  of  Count  Vilani,  and  his  insane 
cousin  came  to  his  mind.  "  Ah  !  this  is  where  this  gold 
comes  from  that  keeps  this  palace  shining  in  such  splen- 
dor. The  very  gold  that  I  have  taken  upon  myself  to 
carry  away  is  part  of  the  fmit  of  this  accursed  crime." 

He  went  to  the  closet,  and  there  beneath  the  rubbish 
lay  the  two  bags  of  gold.  The  mouth  of  one  sack  was 
closed  with  some  thin  wire,  the  other  with  twine- string. 

What  next  ?  He  seated  himself  and  thought  of  his 
next  course.  Will  he  go  below  and  grope  around,  and 
find  the  place  where  Iphi  was  imprisoned,  go  after  Jean 
and  Paul  and  rescue  her  ?  In  case  he  should  be  discov- 
ered, he  would  ruin  all.  He  felt  sure  now  that  no  violence 
would  be  offered  Iphi,  until  the  hour  of  that  mockery  of 
marriage   that   Verono   spoke    of  —  when    the   cathedral 


LOUIS  DEJON, 


87 


>> 


I 


::.^ 


■'3 


:i 


clock  strikes  the  hour  of  midnight.  He  also  concluded  to 
take  the  gold  with  him,  and  convince  Geno,  tliat  his 
designs  were  not  to  interfere  with  anything  further  in  the 
palace,  and  he  would  make  some  plausible  excuse  for 
retaining  the  keys  of  the  gate  and  secret  entrance  into  the 
palace.  With  these  conclusions  he  took  the  two  sacks  of 
gold  and  was  about  to  depart  on  his  way  through  the 
panel  in  the  wall,  the  secret  stairway,  and  out  of  the  gate. 
]]ut  on  turning  around  the  light  of  his  lamp  fell  upon  the 
dark  form  of  Alonzo,  gazing  upon  him  in  perfect  amaze- 
ment. Louis  instantly  grasped  his  stiletto,  not  to  make 
an  attack  on  Alonzo,  but  to  defend  his  life  at  all  haz- 
ards. 

Put  up  thy  weapon,  rash  man.  You  are  in  my  power. 
In  one  moment  of  time  I  can  arouse  assistance,  and  you 
will  be  beyond  all  earthly  power.  I  have  fixed  the  sliding 
l^anel,  so  that  were  you  to  attempt  to  open  it,  you  would 
spring  an  alarm  that  would  insure  your  destruction.  I 
have  discovered  you  in  the  commission  of  a  crime  that  the 
laws  of  the  land  punish  with  death. 

Noble  Louis  came  to  rescue  Iphi  from  the  grasp  of  the 
monster,  and  will  himself  fall  a  sacrifice  to  his  merciless 
vengeance.     He  came  to  save,  and  is  cruelly  lost. 

When  Alonzo  left  Verono  in  the  passage  she  went  in 
the  same  direction  that  Louis  had  to  go  to  reach  the 
waste  chamber,  where  this  gold  was  concealed.  Alonzo 
took  the  other  end  of  the  passage  that  led  to  another 
angle  of  the  palace.  Alonzo  heard,  or  thought  he  heard, 
some  person  moving  on  the  floor,  and  chanced  to  turn  and 
look  back  just  at  the  moment  Louis  raised  himself  up  in 
an  upright  position  and  passed  between  him  and  the 
dimly  lighted  disk  of  the  same  window  where  Louis  had 


Wi 


<t 


wmmmmmmmmmm 


• 


88 


EXILES  OF  LOUISIANA. 


first  seen  the  dimly  defined  forms  of  Alonzo  and  Verono, 
approaching  the  place  where  he  lay  concealed  against  the 
wall. 

Alonzo  glided,  softly  back  heard  Louis  open  the  door 
and  close  it  after  him ;  saw  the  flash  of  the  lantern  as  it 
passed  the  door,  and  when  Louis  stooped  down  and  took 
the  two  sacks  of  gold  out  of  the  closet  he  saw  him  plainly, 
as  the  closet  was  in  the  opposite  side  of  the  loom  and 
nearly  in  a  direct  line.  He  gently  opened  the  door  and 
stepped  into  the  room.  The  noise  drew  the  attention  of 
Louis.  He  raised  himself  up,  turned  the  light  in  that 
direction,  and  there  stood  Alonzo  looking  at  him  in  the 
very  act  of  robbery. 


in. 

The  Siren  and  Victim. 

We  left  Iphi  in  the  power  of  Verono,  left  her  in  despair, 
with  a  heart  suffering  the  pangs  of  sorrow.  It  was  not 
for  self  she  grieved,  but  those  blessed  ones  in  yonder  cot- 
tage, upon  whom  this  blow  would  fall  with  crushing  force. 
Surely  their  hearts  will  break  with  the  loss  of  their  Iphi. 
Verono  had  returned  to  her,  and,  with  that  mysterious 
transformation  of  tone  and  manner,  was  addressing  with 
apparent  aftection,  her  helpless  victim. 

"  Iphi,"  she  says,  "your  cottage,  your  flower-garden,  and 
vineyard,  you  love  so  well,  will  soon  look  to  you  as  unim- 
portant and  contemptible.  Your  petty  dreams  of  happi- 
ness, and  contentment  are  vain  and  childish  fancies.  In 
the  course  of  nature  your  father  and  mother,  must  soon 
pass  away,  and  leave  you  alone  in  the  world.     What  you 


1'^ 


THE  SIREaY  and  VICTIM, 


89 


call  virtue,  will  soon  be  to  you  a  fanciful  image,  clothed 
with  the  roseate  hues  of  a  youthful,  joyous  imagination, 
but  empty,  shining  bubbles,  that  disappear  with  the  world's 
rude  touch.  Your  dear  Jean,  as  you  call  him,  will  either 
fall  in  battle  or  be  cast  away  as  a  mere  waif,  floating  on 
the  world's  wide  sea.  You  thought  me  charming  and 
delightful,  and  yet  1  am  but  a  sample  of  the  world's  de- 
ceit and  ambition.  The  world  awards  a  premium  to  suc- 
cessful ambition,  while  it  uses  virtue  and  credulity  as 
instruments  to  accomplish  its  purposes  and  designs.  To- 
day those  you  love  seem  happy  and  joyous,  to-morrow 
they  are  tossed  helplessly  upon  the  waves,  with  none  to 
help,  save,  or  pity.  Soon,  very  soon  you,  with  your  beau- 
tiful face  and  fine  form,  will  fall  a  victim  to  some  one's 
passion  and  treachery.  Act  for  yourself.  Here  is  a  pal- 
ace and  wealth,  and  fine  apparel  for  you  to  wear.  You 
will  be  a  lady.  Gold  is  our  best  friend.  Cast  away  these 
idle  fancies  of  youth,  called  morality  and  virtue.  Face 
the  v/orld  with  courage,  pride,  and  ambition." 

To  Iphi  these  words,  though  uttered  in  a  friendly  tone 
and  with  apparent  sincerity,  were  strange  and  dreadful. 
Her  heart  was  so  stricken  that  it  almost  ceased  to  throb. 
Her  love  for  her  parents,  her  Jean,  as  she  called  him,  her 
charity  for  every  one,  was  as  true  and  sublime  as  that  char- 
ity that  said  to  the  thief  dying  on  the  cross,  with  all  his 
crimes  upon  him,  "This  day  thou  shalt  be  with  me  in 
Paradise."  It  was  strange  that  when  she  raised  her  eyes 
to  the  wall,  they  rested  on  that  angelic  face  and  form, 
traced  there  by  the  hand  of  De  Vinci.  To  her  it  was  a 
heavenly  friend,  who  came  to  save.  The  smile  on  that 
beautiful  face  —  so  calm,  so  serene  —  was  to  her  full  of 
faith  and  love.     This  picture,  taken  from  life  centuries 


1^ 


Sif 


•.■\' 


(-■■I,' 


90 


EXILES  OF  LOUISIANA, 


m  m . 


il 


ago,  nerved  the  heart  of  the  poor  flower  girl,  like  the 
presence  of  a  loving  friend.  It  nerved  her  to  stand  firm 
and  steadfast  in  the  cause  of  truth  and  virtue. 

She  said  :  "  Lady,  you  draw  the  picture  of  a  world 
without  God.  A  world  that  has  no  part  in  the  goodness 
and  loving  kindness  of  Jesus.  No,  my  dear  lady,  I  want 
none  of  these  things ;  neither  palace,  gold,  or  fine  apparel. 
They  are  suited  to  the  noble  and  those  born  to  fill  high 
places.  No,  I  will  never  forsake  my  parents,  my  Jean, 
and  my  humble  life.  My  gifts  of  charity  that  I  give  to 
the  poor  and  distressed  are  as  pleasing  to  me  as  the  costly 
gifts  bestowed  by  the  hand  of  wealth.  My  heart  says,  — 
You  have  done  your  duty  ;  you  gave  all  you  had  to  give. 
No,  no,  my  lady,  the  happiness  that  comes  from  those  I 
love,  is  not  the  enchantment  of  an  idle  dream,  but  real, 
true,  and  perfect  in  its  joy.  Oh,  how  1  delight  to  be  with 
my  parents  and  my  friends,  in  our  humble  cot,  and  look  out 
upon  the  sea,  the  hills,  and  the  beautiful  landscape.  So 
bright  and  cheerful  it  is  for  me  to  hear  the  sweet  songs  of 
the  birds,  and  the  glad,  joyful  laugh  of  the  working  peas- 
antry, and  when  I  can  say  to  my  own  heart,  the  good  God 
has  done  all  this  for  thee  and  thine  in  loving  kindness." 

Lady  Verono  cast  upon  her  a  look  of  contempt,  re- 
marking, —  "I  have  nothing  to  say,  except  that  you  are 
very  simple  and  foolish,"  and  left  the  apartment. 


IV. 

The  Voice  from  Behind  the  Tapestry. 


-if 

'■'■;! 

%■ 

ill 
fi: 


In  this  world,  where  there  is  an  endless  warfare  between 
good  and  evil,  if  a  sin  is  committed  that  is  unpardonable, 


THE  VOICE  BEHIND  THE  TAPESTRY.     91 

it  is  when  vice,  armed  with  wealth  and  power,  tramples  on 
virtue,  and  smiles  upon  the  wounds  it  has  inflicted. 

Lady  Verono  was  gifted  by  nature  with  brilliant  talents, 
combined  with  a  beautiful  person.  The  shrine  of  virtue 
in  her  soul  had  been  demolished  and  consumed  by  the 
lires  of  hate,  malice,  and  ambition,  or  she  would  have 
fallen  in  adoration  before  this  grand  image  of  virtue  and 
piety. 

Iphi  now  found  herself  a  prisoner,  surrounded  with 
splendor,  and  those  beautiful  objects  which  charmed  her 
so  much  when  they  came  as  the  offering  of  friendship  : 
when  offered  her  as  the  price  of  virtue,  they  were  hid- 
eous, save  alone  that  lovely  face  so  full  of  faith  and  love  ; 
and  although  a  silent  witness  of  her  sorrow,  spoke  of  hope 
and  consolation. 

Often  Verono  came  to  her  prison-chamber  with  appar- 
ent friendship  and  interest  for  her  welfare  ;  but  in  this 
there  was  no  consolation  or  hope  for  Iphi,  for  it  was  too 
plain  that  she  had  betrayed  her  with  some  evil  purpose  in 
view,  which  Iphi  could  not  at  present  discern. 

Sooii  Count  Vilani  was  introduced  to  her  presence,  and 
with  his  shrewdness  and  tact,  acquired  by  experience 
in  these  cowardly  acts  of  villainy,  assumed  a  manner  and 
air  of  trutii  and  friendship,  and  Iphi  was  for  a  moment 
thrown  off  her  guard  by  the  wily  seducer.  He  passed 
towards  her,  took  a  seat  by  her  side,  and  said  in  most 
alleclionate  tones, — 

"  Iphi,  you  are  so  beautiful,  that  I  cannot  live  without 
you.  I  love  you,  and  all  I  have,  this  palace  and  all  this 
wealth,  1  will  share  with  you,  and  you  must  learn  to  love 


m 


me. 


"  Count  Vilani,  this  is  impossible  ;  nothing  can  induce 


w 


92 


EXILES   OF  LOUISIANA. 


me  to  forsake  my  parents,  nothing  can  induce  me  to  cast 
aside  my  friends,  to  accept  even  an  honorable  life  in  this 
palace;  and  sooner  than  submit  to  dishonor,  I  would  wel- 
come death  as  my  best  friend." 

"  I  am  told,"  said  the  Count,  "  there  is  one  who  loves 
you  ;  some  base  born  peasant  presumes  to  aspire  to  the 
love  of  one  who  should  be  the  wife  of  a  nobleman. 
Your  parents  sh^ll  be  well  provided  for.  I  have  had  them 
already  informed  of  your  safety,  and  not  to  sorrow  for 
your  absence.  As  for  this  lover,  I  will  have  him  sent  to 
the  battle-field,  and  you  will  no  longer  be  troubled  with 
him.  No,  Iphi,  you  must  be  mine,  and  mine  only.  See 
how  grandly  the  Lady  Verono  lives.  So  admired,  feared, 
and  worshipped.  You  shall  be  placed  above  her  as  far  as 
your  beauty  and  loveliness  is  above  hers.  My  Iphi  shall 
be  exalted  above  Verono." 

Iphi  replied  :  "This  cannot  be.  The  base  peasant,  as 
you  call  my  Jean,  and  who  has  my  love,  and  who  has  a 
right  to  aspire  to  my  hand  and  heart,  has  never  been 
appointed  or  decreed  a  nobleman  by  the  king.  God  made 
him  noble.  Me  is  worUiy  of  my  love  and  affection.  Far 
sooner  would  I  wed  this  base  peasant,  as  you  call  him, 
than  to  wed  you  with  all  this  grandeur  and  wealth.  For- 
tune has  placed  in  your  hands  power  to  defend  and  pro- 
tect the  poor  and  oppressed.  How  sad  to  think  that  you 
should  be  the  first  to  commit  acts  of  cruelty  among  the 
defenceless  poor.  What!  love  you,  and  discard  Jean.? 
God  would  forbid  it.     Sooner  would  I  perish." 

"Why,  brave  girl,  you  but  increase  my  love,  my  passion 
I  am  resolved  to  subdue  you  to  my  will.    This  night,  when 
the  cathedral  bell  strikes  the  midnight  hour,  in  this  apart- 
ment, a  holy  priest  shall   unite  us  in  the  sweet  bonds  of 


THE  VOICE  BEHIND  THE  TAPESTRY,     93 

marriage,  and  thou  shalt  be  the  Lady  Vilani.  Submit  to 
destiny  ;  it  is  thy  fate." 

Here  then  was  the  abyss  in  which  they  had  planned  to 
cast  her  soul  ;  to  despoil  her  of  virtue  by  a  mock  marriage. 
IIow  honible  the  thought.  The  deep  schemes  of  Vilani 
and  Verono  were  now  terribly  apparent.  In  agony  of 
heart,  with  piteous  tones,  she  plead  with  Vilani,  to  have 
at  least  compassion  for  her  aged  father  and  mother ;  they 
would  die  broken-hearted  ;  that  she  never  could  return  to 
them  except  with  that  spotless  innocence  she  possessed 
when  first  beguiled  into  his  power.  "Pity  me,  for  I  am 
nothing  but  a  poor  peasant  girl,  while  you  are  a  great  noble- 
man, and  can  wed  witli  one  who  can  far  better  fill  this  grand 
position  of  the  Countess  Vilani.  Have  mercy  upon  me,  for 
the  time  may  be  near  at  hand  when  thou  shalt  ask  mercy 
of  others.  The  cruelty  you  now  inflict  on  me  may  soon 
return  to  you." 

"  Iphi,"  he  said,  "I  love,  you  and  cannot  part  with  you. 
I  am  to  be  pitied." 

Iphi  stood  confronting  him.  She  was  still  clad  in  her 
humble,  modest  garb  of  the  flower  girl.  She  had  the 
armor  of  truth  and  virtue ;  she  looked  grand  and  ma- 
jestic. The  heartless  Vilani  for  a  moment  trembled  in 
her  presence. 

What  a  mockery  of  this  grand  attribute  of  the  heart  for 
the  libertine  to  say  to  virtuous  innocence,  "  I  love  you!" 
Perhaps  when  the  generous  emotions  of  the  soul  are  per- 
verted by  a  life  of  crime,  the  base,  selfish  passion  that 
seeks  to  gratify  its  own  desire  is  mistaken  for  love. 

Jean's  love  for  Iphi  e.xalted  him.  It  was  Iphi's  happi- 
ness that  brought  joy  to  his  heart.  It  was  the  grand  salu- 
tation of  love  to  joy.     Love  and  joy  met  and  embraced. 


t 


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IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


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Li    124 
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23  WIST  MAIN  STRliT 

WiBSTH.N.Y.  14SM 

(71«)  •72-4S03 


'^ 


94 


EXILES  OF  LOUISIANA. 


■      if 


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I   ■;  ''   I 


I,: 


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it  I- 


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::   :      I 


4 


Virtue  seeing  this  sweet  union  of  love  and  joy,  blessed 
both,  and  crowned  them  with  bliss. 

Vilani's  love  debased  him.  It  brought  as  tribute  to  the 
altar,  desire,  jealousy,  and  crime.  It  was  born  of  vice  and 
darkness,  iN  offspring,  misery. 

Vilani  could  have,  with  cruel  jealousy,  put  Jean  to 
death,  for  his  love  of  the  object  of  his  desire.  Had  he 
loved  Iphi  in  truth,  and  sought  her  love  for  her  sake,  for 
her  happiness,  Jean,  with  his  noble  soul,  would  have 
loved  him. 

Louis  Dejon,  generous  and  true,  was  Jean's  best  friend, 
because  he  sought  with  earnest  solicitude  to  promote  the 
happiness  of  Iphi. 

Vilani's  love  was  like  the  perversion  of  the  charity  and 
mercy  of  the  cross  into  bigotry  and  hate.  It  was  chang- 
ing the  joy  which  perfect  liberty  brings,  for  the  woe  that 
despotism  offers. 

The  one  was  Promethean  fire  kindled  at  heaven's  altar, 
the  other  was  the  consuming  flames  of  the  angel  of 
darkness. 

When  she  heard  the  words,  "  Ipiii,  I  love  you,  and  can- 
not part  with  you,"  the  words  "  I  love  you,"  were  revolt- 
ing, and  appeared  to  give  her  nerve  to  resist  this  villainous 
outrage  upon  her  person,  to  thus  imprison  her,  and  thus 
force  her  to  a  union  that  would  blight  her  life  and  bring 
unutterable  misery  and  woe.  There  was  an  impressive 
look  on  this  noble  girl  when  she  had  resolved  to  die  rather 
than  be  dishonored. 

Gladly  at  this  moment  would  she  have  accepted  the 
altar  of  sacrifice,  the  cord,  knife,  flames,  rather  than  the 
altar  of  marriage  with  this  base  fiend,  who  had  betrayed 
her  into  his  power  to  destroy  her,  both  body  and  soul. 


THE  VOICE  BEHIND  THE  TAPESTRY.     95 


^ 


"  Base,  cruel  man  ;  you  ask  me  to  love  you  while  plan- 
ning my  ruin.     How  could  I  love  you  ?  " 

Vilani  looked  upon  her  with  astonishment.  He  sufh 
posed  he  was  dealing  with  a  common  peasant  girl,  who 
would  soon  yield  to  one  of  his  commanding  position. 

He  rushed  towards  her  to  clasp  her  in  his  wanton  em- 
brace. At  that  moment  there  rang  through  the  apartment 
the  stern  words,  — 

♦*  Beware  !     Beware  !  " 

"  What  can  this  be  ? "  Quickly  he  called  Geno.  Geno 
answered  the  summons. 

"  Geno,"  he  said,  "  some  enemy  is  lurking  in  the  palace. 
Who  can  it  be  ?  " 

"  My  lord,  no  one  has  entered  the  palace ;  who  would 
thus  dare  to  intrude  ? " 

"  Well,  Geno,"  call  Joseph,  and  search  well  in  every 
nook  and  corner,  and  find,  if  possible,  who  is  thus  acting 
as  an  enemy  and  a  spy  upon  me." 

They  all  left  the  apartment,  and  poor  Iphi  sank  ex- 
hausted upon  a  seat. 

Lady  Verono  concealed  behind  some  tapestry,  near  the 
front  entrance  of  the  apartment,  had  witnessed  this  inter- 
view between  Vilani  and  Iphi.  With  feelings  of  anger 
and  contempt,  she  heard  the  words  of  Vilani,  "  I  will 
place  my  Iphi  above  Verono."  She  said  to  herself,  "  No, 
no,  my  Vilani ;  never  will  you  reach  the  hour  to  place  a 
mistress  in  the  palace  to  rule  over  Verono."  When  Vilani 
rushed  to  embrace  Iphi,  she  thought  her  plans  might  be 
frustrated,  and  changing  her  voice  so  that  she  could  not 
be  detected,  she  uttered  the  words,  "  beware,  beware,"  and 
silently  glided  out  into  her  chamber. 

After  making  a  full  search,  neither  Vilani,  Geno,  or 


\ 


'{'■ 


art 


96 


EXILES   OF  LOUISIANA. 


Joseph,  could  discern  any  person  concealed  in  or  about 
the  apartment,  so  that  this  affair  was  still  to  Vilani,  a 
strange  mystery. 

He  went  in  person  to  Verono's  chambers,  and  found 
her  resting  on  her  couch  in  profound  slumber. 


,'|J3 


i'^^ 


Midnight  Hour. 

The  time  designated  for  the  consummation  of  this 
marriage  ceremony  had  arrived.  Here  was  the  apartment 
in  this  palace.  Here  was  heaven's  livery,  designed  to 
give  sanctity  to  holy  bonds  of  marriage,  to  be  used  in 
the  perpetration  of  the  crime  of  crimes. 

Here  a  priest  clothed  in  the  sacred  robes  of  the  high 
office  of  God's  servant  on  earth.  There  the  alter,  the 
burning  tapers,  the  Holy  Book,  in  which  is  written  the 
life  of  the  man  of  sorrows,  yet  a  life,  replete  and  perfect,  in 
the  virtues  of  charity,  and  mercy. 

The  obscure  outlines  of  the  apartment,  the  solemn  air 
and  dignity  of  the  priest,  the  dimly  burning  tapers,  the 
subdued  light  of  the  chandelier  suspended  overhead,  the 
midnight  hour,  the  deep  measured  tones  of  the  cathedral 
bell  striking  the  hour  of  twelve,  —  gave  to  the  scene  the 
gloom  of  sacrifice,  instead  of  the  joy  of  marriage. 

It  promised  the  joys  of  marriage,  but  was  designed  as 
the  sacrifice  of  virtue,  and  innocence.  There  is  the  altar 
and  here  the  victim. 

Iphi  had  hoped  that  relief  would  come  before  this  crisis 
in  her  fate  would  be  upon  her.    She  had  prayed  in  vain. 


MIDNIGHT  HOUR 


97 


She  stood  now  upon  the  very  verge  of  the  horrible  abyss 
that  had  for  so  many  long,  weary  hours  threatened  to 
engulf  her. 

Often  had  she  asked  her  hard-hearted  persecutors  to 
pity  her,  to  have  mercy  on  her.  They  were  unmoved  by 
the  tears  of  pleading  innocence,  and  she  yielded  in  hope- 
less, and  helpless  despair,  and  became  in  their  hands,  a 
passive  victim  to  work  out  their  cruel  will.  They  had 
robed  her  in  costly  apparel.  Vilani  spoke  to  her  words 
of  comfort  and  corsolation. 

In  this  hour  of  sorrow  there  was  still  left  to  her  one  ray 
of  hope.  When  she  was  led  to  the  altar,  she  fell  upon  her 
knees  before  the  priest,  and  said,  — 

"  Holy  man  of  God,  have  mercy  on  me  and  save  me. 
All  earthly  splendor  and  wealth  to  me  are  as  nothing  with- 
out love  and  virtue.  Nothing  in  this  world  so  dear  to  me 
as  my  mother's  love.  Do  with  me  as  you  will,  but  do  not 
rob  me  of  virtue  and  honor.     Far  sooner  would  I  die." 

Her  heart  was  so  full  of  anguish,  the  tones  of  her  voice 
so  full  of  touching  pathos,  that  even  these  ruthless  perse- 
cutors paused  in  their  work  of  inquity. 

This  poor  flower  girl,  humble,  unprotected,  pleading 
with  the  representatives  of  a  family  of  high  and  noble  birth, 
who  dwelt  in  a  lordly  palace,  surrounded  with  all  the 
splendor  that  wealth  and  art  could  bring  to  adorn,  to 
have  mercy,  and  spare  to  her  a  life  of  purity,  and  humility, 
was  a  touching  picture  of  the  grandeur  and  majesty  of 
virtue. 

Flashes  from  the  cross  of  Calvary  filled  iier  soul  with 
divine  inspiration ;  and  she  was  the  personification  of 
everything  that  was  beautiful,  grand,  and  noble  in  mankind. 


tl 


98 


EXILES  OF  LOUISIANA. 


I  .(■ 


li 


She  says,  "  You  hesitate.  Are  there  none  to  pity,  none 
to  save  mc  ?  " 

These  words  had  scarcely  passed  her  lips,  when  Paul 
Lorraine  advanced  and  confronted  <^ount  Vilani.  It  was 
his  manly  form  and  dauntless  bearing.  He  was  crowned 
with  the  majesty  of  justice. 

He  said,  "This  innocent  girl  asks  for  pity,  for  mercy, 
you  will  not  grant  to  her  even  that.  I  asV:  for  nothing  ;  I 
came  here  to  demand  a  release  of  this  helpless  victim  of 
your  cowardly  cruelty." 

Vilani  looked  upon  Paul  Lorraine  with  derision.  He 
said,  "  What  presumption  for  a  base-born  peasant  to  enter 
by  stealth  the  palace  of  a  nobleman  and  command  him  to 
obey  his  will !  I  will  teach  thee  courtesy,  at  least,"  and 
quick  as  thought,  whipt  out  his  sword  from  the  belt  and 
made  a  deadly  thrust  at  the  heart  of  Paul,  who,  with  con- 
summate skill,  warded  off  the  blow. 

Geno  sprang  and  grasped  Paul  by  the  shoulders,  and 
the  next  thrust  from  the  sword  of  Vilani  would  have  been 
fatal ;  but  Louis  came  like  the  bound  of  the  leopard,  saw 
Paul's  danger,  and  struck  (.'ount  Vilani  on  the  breast  with 
a  stiletto,  and  he  fell  bleeding  to  the  floor. 

I  phi  was  bewildered  with  surprise,  joy,  and  terror. 
Jean  flew  to  her  rescue,  and  with  the  assistance  of  Louis 
and  Paul  they  carried  her  away  from  the  place  where  she 
had  sufl"ert'd  so  much,  and  now  all  appeared  like  the 
awakeninj:;  from  a  hidc(jus  dream. 

Geno  was  about  to  alarm  the  servants  of  the  palace, 
and  then  to  flee  after  Paul,  Louis  and  Jean,  and  arrest 
their  escape.  Verono  said,  "Stay,  Geno!"  The  priest 
had  left  the  apartment  when  the  violence  commenced. 
Verono  and  Geno  were   alone  in  the  apartment.     They 


i:4 


THE  TWO  SACKS  OF  GOLD. 


99 


went  to  the  piostrate  form  of  Count  Vilani,  who  was 
bleeding  profusely ;  and  yet  the  wound  did  not  seem  to  be 
mor'al.  He  soon  regained  his  senses,  and  in  a  low  tone 
of  voice  requested  Verono  to  send  for  surgical  assistance. 
She  gave  him  a  cold,  heartless  look. 

"  Oh,  Verono,  I  am  dying :  do  not  look  so  cruel  upon 
me.     Pardon  me;  forgive  me;  have  mercy,  and  pity  me." 

"Oh,  why.?  The  peasant  girl  is  not  only  beautiful,  far 
above  Verono ;  but  she  is  also  a  prophetess,  for  no  longer 
than  yesterday  she  said  to  you,  '  The  time  may  not  be  far 
distant  when  you  may  ask  for  pity  and  mercy  and  it  be  de- 
nied you  I '  With  her  rare  beauty,  she  is  also  able  to  foretell 
events.  It  is  not  surprising  that  you  would  place  your 
Iphi  far  above  Verono  in  this  palace,  and  make  a  descend- 
ant of  the  Medici  a  base  serving  maid  to  a  low  born  peas- 
ant girl,  because  she  has  a  pretty  face." 

Count  Vilani  uttered  the  words,  "Oh,  pity!  forgive  and 
have  mercy  on  me,"  and  fell  back  faint  with  the  loss  of 
blood. 

Verono  said  to  Geno,  "  The  supreme  moment  of  my  life 
has  come  ;  do  now  my  bidding,  and  any  request  you  make 
of  me  shall  be  gratified." 

Geno  sprang  upon  the  prostrate  form  of  the  unfortunate 
Vilani,  grasped  his  throat  and  held  him  until  he  had 
ceased  to  breathe. 


' 


VI. 


The  Two  Sacks  of  Gold. 

For  the  present  we  leave  Vilani  to  his  tragical  fate  and 
return  to  Louis,,  where  he  was  confronted  by  Alonzo  in  the 
waste  room  with  the  two  sacks  of  gold  in  his  possession. 


¥ 


lOO 


EXILES  OF  LOUISIANA. 


kil 


His  first  thoughts  were  of  Iphi  and  this  sad  defeat  of  his 
pL  ns  to  save  her.  Paul  and  Jean  knew  that  he  had  en- 
tered the  palace  by  the  secret  way,  but  could  do  nothing 
to  help  either  Iphi  or  himself  from  this  perilous  position. 
He  stood  detected  in  the  commission  of  a  crime  that  in- 
volved his  life.  He  was  a  robber.  He  had  entered  this 
mansion  at  the  midnight  hour  by  force  and  violence. 
These  reflections  to  him  were  appalling  in  the  extreme. 
He  had  resolved,  however,  to  use  no  violence  except  in 
defense  of  his  life. 

Alonzo  says  to  him,  "  Put  up  your  weapon  ;  you  are  in 
my  power,  and  escape  is  impossible.  I  have  taken  the 
precaution  to  fasten  the  panel  by  which  you  entered.  It 
is  not  my  desire  at  present  to  injure  you  if  you  convince 
me  that  your  presence  in  this  mansion  is  not  for  an  evil 
purpose,  but  for  a  good  purpose." 

Louis  was  much  surprised  by  this  declaration,  and 
promptly  answered  that  he  did  not  come  here  for  the  base 
purpose  of  taking  this  paltry  gold;  that  the  gold  was  a 
mere  pretence  to  save  an  innocent  girl,  who  had  been  be- 
trayed into  this  palace  and  here  detained  for  purposes  of 
the  darkest  villainy,  and  he  was  here  solely  by  the  prompt- 
ings of  justice  and  mercy  to  save  her  from  dishonor. 

Alonzo  then  asked  him  how  he  had  obtained  entrance 
into  the  palace. 

Louis  then  related  to  him  in  full  the  agreement  he  had 
made  with  Geno  to  carry  off  this  money,  and  that  Geno  , 
was  to  divide  with  him  Joseph's  share  of  the  stolen  gold. 

"  Then  you  were  concealed  in  the  passage  and  heard  the 
conversation  between  myself  and  Lady  Verono.  If  so 
state  what  you  heard  as  near  as  possible.  If  you  are  can- 
did with  me  I  will  assist  you;  if  not,  I  will  have  you 


I     ■: 


THE  TWO  SACKS  OF  GOLD. 


lOI 


arrested  here,  and  the  consequences  to  you  will  be  the  loss 
of  life  through  the  tribunals  of  justice.  Is  not  your  name 
Louis  Dejon  ? " 

"  That  is  my  name.  I  heard  in  that  conversation  the 
name  of  Paul  Lorraine.  I  heard  you  state  that  the  false 
marriage  was  to  be  perpetrated  at  the  hour  of  midnight  on 
to-morrow.  I  also  heard  it  stated  that  Francisco  Vilani's 
death  involved  the  crime  of  murder,  and  committed  in  this 
palace." 

"  Were  you  not  examining  that  picture  when  you  first 
came  into  this  room  ?" 

Louis  answered  promptly,  "that  he  had  been." 

"  Now  listen  to  me.  Swear  by  your  God  and  your 
hopes  of  salvation,  never  to  make  use  of  the  facts  which  I 
will  relate  to  you,  to  the  injury  of  either  Vilani  or  Verono, 
and  I  will  also  assist  you  to  secure  Iphi  from  dishonor, 
and  also  save  Vilani  from  a  crime  more  detestable  even 
than  murder." 

Louis  answered  :  "  1  swear  never  to  betray  your  confi- 
dence or  to  say  anything  that  may  injure  you  or  your 
friends.  I  came  here,  not  for  the  purpose  of  finding  out 
family  secrets,  but  for  the  sole  purpose  of  rescuing  that 
poor  girl  from  a  cruel  fate." 

"Then  you  will  be  silent  on  the  death  of  Francisco 
Vilani. 

"  He  possessed  immense  wealth.  The  vain,  ambitious 
and  licentious  lives  of  Vilani  and  Verono  are  artfully  con- 
cealed by  the  glitter  of  wealth  from  the  eyes  of  th'i  world. 
They  could  not  await  the  death  of  this  unfortunate  mail, 
but  in  order  to  have  full  control  of  all  his  possessions,  all 
his  great  treasures^  consisting  of  gold  and  diamonds  of 
great  value,  they  used  this  wolf  in  human  form,  Gcno,  to 


,  >        f 


1  i  t  It 


102 


EXILES  OF  LOUISlAJSiA, 


m 


end  his  days  by  slow  poison.  They  had  no  fears  that  Geno 
would  betray  them.  His  interest  kept  him  still,  and  he 
knew  himself  that  his  looks  and  actions  would  have  no 
possible  influence  with  any  one,  and  for  him  to  attempt  to 
tell  his  story  would  insure  his  swift  destruction. 

"  My  position  in  this  household  is  one  of  great  peril. 
I  dare  not  i'^terfere  in  the  least  with  their  designs.  1  do 
not  desire,  either,  to  have  them  convicted  in  a  court  of  jus- 
tice and  die  a  disgraceful  death. 

"Did  either  of  them  know  that  you  were  in  this  man- 
sion, and  possessed  of  these  facts,  your  escape  Vv'ould  be 
impossible  ;  your  death  sure  and  swift ;  your  body  cast 
into  a  vault,  and  if  the  officers  of  the  law  attempted  to  in- 
vestigate through  your  friends,  they  would  soon  be 
silenced,  by  gold  and  false  witnesses,  to  swear  that  it  was 
impossible  for  you  to  enter  the  palace  at  midnight,  or  they 
would  prove  that  you  came  to  steal  this  gold,  and  that 
Geno  killed  you  in  the  very  act  of  robbery.  Fortunate  was 
it  for  you  that  it  was  I  who  detected  your  presence,  and 
am  here  alone  with  you.  Take  this  gold  with  you.  Do 
with  Geno  just  as  you  agreed,  so  as  to  avoid  any  interfer- 
ence with  our  plans.  He  is  a  cunning  villain,  and  will 
quickly  detect  you  if  he  sees  that  gold  was  not  your  object 
in  entering  the  palace.  Take  this  key  for  the  postern 
gate ;  this  for  the  entrance  to  the  secret  passage.  When 
you  arrive  on  the  second  floor  of  the  palace,  to  your  right 
on  the  platform  there  is  what  appears  to  be  a  panel  in  the 
wall ;  this  key  inserted  in  a  small  aperture  at  the  base  of 
the  facing  of  the  panel  moves  a  spring,  and  the  panel  is 
easily  moved  back.  Vou  enter  a  passage,  the  first  door  on 
the  left  hand  side  leads  you  to  the  apartment  where  this 
mockery  of  marriage  will  take  place.     Be  there  with  Paul 


THE  TWO  SACKS  OF  GOLD. 


103 


Lorraine,  Jean  Gendron  and  yourself  in  that  passage,  so 
that  you  can  enter  the  chamber  when  the  Cathedral  clock 
tolls  the  hour  of  twelve.  This  may  result  in  the  death  of 
Vilani,  or  yourself,  or  friends ;  but  it  will  save  this  poor 
girl  from  cruel  sacrifice.  If  you  are  comixiUed  to  use  a 
weapon  in  self  defense,  disable  or  disarm  Vilani,  but  spare 
his  life  if  possible." 

Louis  closed  his  lantern.  Alonzo  led  him  to  the  secret 
passage,  opened  it,  and  Louis  departed  to  seek  l*aul  and 
Jean,  and  relate  to  them  the  strange  turn  of  fortune  Uiat 
took  place  in  the  palace  of  Vilani. 

Geno  was  so  busily  engaged  the  next  day,  obeying  his 
master's  ofders,  that  he  did  not  find  time  to  seek  Louis  to 
get  his  gold  and  a  return  of  the  keys  to  the  postern  gate 
and  secret  passage.  He  seemed,  however,  satisfied  that 
Louis  had  ^'sxq  gold,  and  would  act  in  good  faith  with  his 
friend,  who  had  introduced  him  to  so  valuable  a  treasure. 

It  brought  supreme  joy  to  the  heart  of  the  gardener  and 
his  wife  that  their  precious  child  had  been  restored  to 
them.  With  tears  of  gratitude  they  thanked  her  deliverers 
and  earnestly  prayed  to  the  Infinite  to  bless  them. 


VII. 


Geno  makes  Joseph  promise  to  Return  the  Gold. 

The  morning  after  Louis  had  carried  of!  the  concealed 
gold,  Geno  says  to  Joseph,  "  How  is  our  money,  Joseph  ? 
was  it  all  safe  and  secure  when  examined  on  yesterday 


evening : 


?" 


"  That  it  was,  Geno ;  all  right,  my  good  comrade ;  al' 


right." 


il 


ii 

i„ 

"" '.  1  1 

; 

1 

1 
1 

l.ij 

1, 
1 

1'  i 

(■] 

1. 1  ^ .. 

1 

"i 

1 

• 

L 

'i 
■  j  . 

104 


EXILES    OF  LOU  J  is  I  AN  A. 


"I  have  not  gazed  upon  our  shiners  for  some  time, 
Joseph  ;  let  us  go  to  our  hidden  treasure,  and  enjoy  the 
sight." 

"(io  thyself,  good  Geno,  go  thyself." 

*' Why  not  thee  go  with  me,  Joseph  ?  I  should  think  it 
strange  if  thee  refuse,  and  think  you  had  done  something 
amiss  when  last  you  had  handled  those  precious  sacks." 

Accordingly  they  went  to  the  place  where  their  money 
was  concealed.  Joseph  removed  the  rubbish,  but  the 
money  sacks  were  missing. 

"  What  is  the  matter,  Joseph  ?" 

Joseph  was  amazed.  The  sacks  of  gold  were  gone. 
Geno  looked  upon  him  with  a  stern  and  threatening  man- 
ner, saying,  "  Base  villain !  thou  hast  robbed  me.  I 
doubted  thee  when  reluctant  to  come  to  look  upon  our 
gold.  Now  I  see  by  that  guilty  stare  upon  thy  face,  cursed 
villain,  that  thou  hast  taken  and  hid  my  sack  in  some  other 
place  to  rob  me.  Confess,  and  tell  me  where  they  are,  or 
1  strike  you  dead  where  you  stand." 

"Geno,  honest  Geno,  if  I  hope  for  salvation  and  pardon 
of  my  sins,  I  have  not  taken  the  money." 

"  Thou  liest,  base  wretch,  and  thus  to  rob  a  friend.  It 
was  I  who  told  thee  of  the  place  where  money  could  be 
got,  and  thus  you  repay  me  for  my  kindness.  Come,  con- 
fess or  I  will  kill  thee." 

"  Have  mercy,  Geno.  I  took  not  the  gold.  I  will  swear 
by  the  Holy  Cross  and  all  the  saints  that  I  took  not  the 


gold." 


"Joseph,  then  thou  wouldst  add  perjury  to  thy  many 
crimes.  This  is  dangerous  gold  ;  it  has  been  stained  with 
crime  —  now  thrice  stolen.  And  now,  guilty  wretch,  thou 
art  willing  to  damn  thy  soul  to  perdition,  by  swearing  to  a 


J 


josurirs  promise. 


»os 


lie  upon  the  Holy  Cross.  This  I  will  do  with  thee;  swear 
by  the  cross  and  saints  that  in  one  montii's  time  thou  wilt 
have  this  loss  made  up  to  me." 

"  I  swear,  good,  noble  Geno,  to  have  it  here  in  value^ 
either  in  gold,  jewelry  or  precious  stones.  I  will  truly  do 
my  best  to  make  this  right  with  thee,  my  good  and  gener- 
ous friend." 

"  Well,  see  to  it,  villain.  I  will  keep  an  eye  upon  thee, 
and  if  I  find  thee  false  thou  hadst  better  never  been  born. 
If  you  did  not  steal  this  money  yourself,  where  can  it  be } 
How  do  you  say  it  has  been  Ld.en  away  ? " 

"  I  have  but  one  thing  to  say,  iliat  about  the  midnight 
hour,  while  you  and  I  were  on  the  watch  below,  I  heard 
footsteps  and  low  convert  Jon  on  this  tlcor  of  the  palace, 
and  knowing  it  to  be  Alonzo  and  the  Lady  Verono  I  said 
nothing,  as  it  was  of  no  importance,  and  was  not  any  part 
of  our  duty  to  make  note  of  it." 

"  Do  you  think,  Joseph,  they  could  have  found  the  gold, 
or  is  this  but  an  idle  story  of  thine  to  clothe  acts  of  vil- 
lainy with  apparent  innocence,  and  to  wrong  thy  good 
friend  of  his  honest  money." 

"  Geno,  I  am  innocent ;  but  as  I  live  I  shall  make  it 
good  to  thee,  and  restore  all  you  have  lost." 


io6 


EXILES    OF  LOUISIANA, 


mm 


t 


XW 


"m 


BOOK    VIII. 

MUTINY. 

I. 

Forgive  me,  my  brain  was  on  fire 
And  J  kneiv  not  what  I  did. 

Paul  Lorraine  rejoiced  at  the  deliverance  of  Iphi,  yet 
to  him  the  ending  was  tragical  and  sorrowful.  He  regretted 
that  Louis  had  been  so  hasty,  for  he  believed  that  he  could 
have  cast  Geno  off,  and  warded  the  thrust  of  Vilani's 
sword,  and  saved  the  shedding  of  blood.  Louis  assured 
him  that  his  blow  was  not  necessarily  fatal,  which  was 
true ;  for  Vilani's  life  would  have  been  saved  with  surgical 
aid,  and  the  flow  of  blood  stopped.  If  he  had  lived,  how- 
ever, with  his  wealth,  power,  and  influence,  Paul,  Jean, 
and  Louis,  could  not  have  escaped  his  vengeance.  Paul 
saw  the  sombre  shadow  of  evil  falling  on  his  pathway. 
We  all  feel  at  times  as  if  under  the  hand  of  destiny.  This 
mysterious  connecting  of  events  in  human  life  seems  be- 
yond our  vision.  Our  happiness  is  so  often  disturbed  by 
what  others  have  done.  Let  any  one  examine  his  past 
life,  and  he  will  see  small,  unimportant  events,  changing 
his  entire  life,  and  having  a  direct  bearing  on  the  fate  of 
others.  This  appears  more  mysterious  to  us,  when  the 
fate  of  nations  is  changed  and  effected,  by  what  appears 
trivial  and  unimportant.  Victor  Hugo,  in  his  matchless 
description  of  the  battle  oi  Waterloo,  gives  a  very  striking 


MUTINY. 


107 


illustration  of  this.  Blucher  asked  a  peasn'it  boy  the  road 
to  Waterloo.  Had  the  boy  said,  take  the  left  instead  of 
rifjht,  IJlucher  would  not  have  reached  the  battle-field  in 
time  to  have  saved  VVellin<;ton  from  defeat.  Napoleon, 
victorious  at  Waterloo,  would  have  changed  the  map  of 
Kurope. 

A  ship  is  lost  at  sea,  valuable  lives  and  cargo  all  sink 
beneath  the  ocean  wave.  The  human  mind  can  form  no 
idea  of  the  vast  amount  of  evil  that  event  produced  to 
many  thousand:}  of  human  beiir^s,  running  through  hun- 
dreds of  years.  Suppose  Columbus  with  his  ships,  his 
men,  and  his  enterprise,  had  been  lost  at  sea,  and  left  no 
vestige  of  this  wonderful  event  in  the  history  of  the  human 
family.  Could  any  mind,  save  the  mind  of  Omnipotence, 
form  any  conception  of  the  consequence  of  such  an  event 
to  the  whole  human  family  .'* 

If  Joseph  had  been  devoured  by  wild  beasts,  as  his 
l)rothers  had  represented  to  Jacob,-  his  father,  and  the 
blood  upon  the  coat  of  many  colors  had  been  the  blood  of 
his  beloved  Joseph,  the  children  of  Israel  would  never 
have  suffered  Egyptian  bondage  ;  Jacob  and  his  descend- 
ants would  have  dwelt  forever  in  the  land  of  Canaan. 
Pharoah's  daughter  would  have  never  preserved  the  life 
of  the  infant  Moses.  He  would  not  have  evoked  the 
thunders  of  Sinai ;  he  would  not  have  written  the  com- 
mandments J  he  would  never  have  led  the  children  of 
Israel  out  of  the  land  of  bondage,  into  a  land  overflowing 
with  milk  and  honey ;  and  we  would  not  have  been  in- 
formed in  the  nineteenth  century,  after  four  thousand 
years  had  passed  away,  that  Moses  —  the  founder  of  that 
wonderful  people  of  ancient  and  modern  times  —  had 
made  many  blunders  and  mistakes. 


■J     <■;■ 


i"      3 


1 08 


EXILES  OF  LOUISIANA. 


These  wonderful  and  startling  discoveries  in  science, 
philosophy,  and  astronomy,  appear  to  us  often  as  the  re- 
sult of  mere  chance,  while  they  are  the  logical  result  of  a 
chain  of  events,  directed  by  an  Infinite  intelligence  to 
their  final  development.  We  see  the  result,  and  yet  the 
motive  or  the  designs  of  the  Infinite  mind  in  adopting 
these  modes  of  development,  is  far  beyond  our  grasp  or 
comprehension.  It  leads  us  to  this  conclusion,  that  in 
the  womb  of  future  there  are  still  grander  developments 
to  spring  from  the  Infinite  mind,  to  startle  and  astonish 
mortal  man  with  his  power  and  wisdom. 


■i  I 


li 


'1:1      ■ 


II. 

The  next  morning  at  the  usual  hour  the  regiment  to 
which  Paul  and  Jean  belonged  was  out  on  parade,  when  a 
sergeant,  with  a  file  of  soldiers,  came  from  the  headquar- 
ters of  the  commander,  demanding  the  surrender  of  Paul 
Lorraine,  Jean  Gendron,  and  Louis  Dejon,  charging  them 
witii  leaving  the  garrison  against  express  orders,  and 
breaking  into  the  palace  of  the  commander  at  the  mid- 
night hour,  for  the  purpose  of  robbery  and  murder. 

Paul,  Jean,  and  Louis,  all  promptly  came  forward,  will- 
ing to  surrender  up  to  proper  authority,  and  have  these 
charges  investigated.  The  entire  regiment  demurred  to 
the  surrender  of  these  men  to  any  of  the  servants  or 
friends  of  Vilani.  The  officers  on  both  sides  were  con- 
sulting as  to  the  proper  authority  to  investigate  these 
charges.  Every  man,  almost,  in  the  regiment  felt  con- 
vmced  that  if  these  men  fell  into  the  hands  of  their  ene- 
mies their  doom  was  sealed.     Unfortunately  for  all  con- 


MUTINY. 


109 


cerned  in  thi^  trouble,  some  one  concealed  in  one  of  the 
angles  cf  a  building  near  by,  fired  at  Louis, 

The  ball  grazed  his  head  and  killed  a  soldier  in  the 
ranks,  standing  back  of  him.  Louis  saw  the  person  who 
had  shot,  and  he  believed  it  to  be  Geno,  and  that  he  was 
preparing  to  fire  another  charge.  He  rushed  toward  him. 
Paul  followed,  then  Jean.  A  large  portion  of  the  regi- 
ment, smarting  under  repeated  acts  of  petty  cruelty,  and 
understanding  pretty  well  the  origin  of  the  charge  of  rob- 
bery and  murder,  followed  Paul,  Jean,  and  Louis. 

The  ofticers  made  every  efi!ort  to  prevent  this  movement. 
Their  commands  were  disobeyed.  To  add  to  the  unfortu- 
nate condition  of  things,  the  file  of  soldiers  that  came  to 
arrest  Paul,  Jean,  and  Louis,  fired  on  the  advancing  ranks, 
killed  and  wounded  several  of  them,  and  then  fled  to 
where  the  main  body  of  their  regiment  was  stationed. 

Paul  Lorraine  afterward  said,  "  I  knew  not  what  I 
was  doing,  for  my  brain  was  on  fire."  He  was  enraged 
to  that  degree  that  his  judgment  and  self-control  were  com- 
pletely gone.  The  ordeal  which  he  had  passed  through 
for  the  last  twelve  hours,  in  witnessing  the  most  cowardly 
villainy,  drove  him  to  a  condition  of  frenzy.  He  led ;  the 
regiment  followed,  and  every  man  who  resisted  the  move- 
ment was  driven  from  the  garrison.  He  and  and  his  fol- 
lowers were  in  absolute  possession. 

It  is  said  that  the  calm  follows  the  storm.  To  Paul 
Lorraine  this  calm  was  one  full  of  terrible  reflections.  He 
knew  full  well  that,  as  far  as  his  acts  were  concerned,  in 
the  rescue  of  Iphi,  he  could  have  been  easily  vindicated ; 
and  that  he  had  acted  according  to  the  promptings  of 
right  and  justice.  But  alas,  here  was  an  offense  of  an 
entirely  different  character.    He  had  led  these  men  into 


I 


s 


•11 


■ 


i 


'%■ . 


110 


EXILES    OF  LOUISIANA. 


m 


m 


^  '  I 


rSi 


an  act  of  mutiny  and  insubordination,  that  some  one 
would  have  to  answer  for  with  life.  There  could  be  no 
pardon  for  such  a  breach  of  discipline.  To  let  such  an 
offence  go  short  of  the  severest  punishment  all  order  and 
discipline  in  the  army  of  Italy  would  be  at  an  end.  The 
emperor  himself  could  not  allow  such  a  flagrant  act  of 
mutiny  pass  without  some  marked  degree  of  punishment. 
He  might  himself  be  pardoned,  either  by  the  king  of 
Naples  or  the  emperor,  but  it  would  be  cowardly  and  ig- 
noble for  him  to  escape  and  allow  the  men,  who  followed 
him  to  protect  him,  suffer  instead.  This  thought  was  more 
bitter  to  him  than  to  die.  He  said  to  himself,  "  I  have 
disgraced  the  army  of  France."  To  him  this  thought  was 
agonizing.  He  had  crossed  the  Alps  with  Napoleon,  and 
had  performed  his  duty  so  well,  so  nobly,  and  so  bravely, 
that  the  great  commander  had  congratulated  him  with 
kind  words  and  smiles  of  approval.  He  was  in  the  battle 
of  Marengo,  and  fe  11  bleeding  in  the  righteous  cause  of  his 
country.  He  was  in  the  battle  of  Jena,  where  the  army 
of  France  confronted  the  grand  army  of  Prussia,  and 
achieved  an  imperishable  fame.  He  was  now  passing 
through  gloomy  desert  ways,  and  drinking  the  bitter  waters 
of  despair.  How  dear  was  his  mother  and  Annetta  to 
him  at  this  time.  The  words  of  Annetta  that  he  was  good 
and  brave,  and  no  harm  would  come  to  him,  and  that  the 
good  angel  would  find  him  out  and  lead  him  out  into  the 
paths  of  peace  and  happiness,  added  to  his  sorrow  and 
grief.  And  yet  he  did  not  accuse  himself  of  crime.  He 
asked  himself  what  fiend  had  led  him  into  thus  violating 
a  duty  to  his  country.  He  bravely  resolved  to  die,  if  his 
countiy  demanded  this  as  an  example  to  maintain  the 
order  and  discipline  of  the  army  of  France.     Ready  was 


MUTINY. 


Ill 


he  tvO  make  the  sacrifice  by  offering  all  he  had  to  offer  in 
this  world  —  his  life. 

His  heart  went  out  to  that  far-off  home  in  the  Alps  val- 
ley, the  happy,  joyful  scenes  of  his  youth.  There  was  his 
mother,  his  wife  Annetta,  his  uncle  Louis  and  all  his  dear 
old  friends.  There  still  was  the  grand  mountain  cliff 
with  the  dark  green  forest  at  its  base,  the  warbling  brook, 
the  cottage  home,  the  small,  well-cultivated  fields  and  vine- 
yards, the  Brian9on  road,  the  little  cemetery  reposing  in 
the  shadows  of  the  pines  and  cliffs,  where  sleep  the  beloved 
dead.  At  this  hour  the  peaceful  landscape  was  smiling 
beneath  the  rays  of  the  rising  sun.  The  birds  singing 
their  morning  songs  in  praise  of  the  God  who  ever  looked 
with  tender  compassion  upon  the  sorrows  of  the  children 
of  men.  In  this  dark  hour  of  his  fate  this  scene  of  joy 
and  happiness  was  to  him  but  a  bright,  glad  dream  of  life, 
that  was  soon  to  vanish  from  his  sight  forever. 

When  Paul  Lorraine  thus  reasoned  in  his  calm  moments, 
when  this  storm  of  passion  had  subsided,  and  left  this 
wreck  of  his  happiness,  and  the  peace  of  those  he  loved 
so  well,  his  estimate  of  his  situation  and  perils  when  Napo- 
leon was  heard  from  proved  correct. 


in. 


Geno. 

The  news  upon  the  streets  of  Leghorn  the  next  morn- 
ing after  the  death  of  Count  Vilani,  was  that  the  villainous 
Geno  had  led  three  soldiers  into  the  palace  for  the  pur- 
pose of  robbery ;  that  Count  Vilani  while  defending  his 


112 


EXILES   OF  LOUISIANA. 


I 


m 


■^{ 


life  was  disabled  by  a  blow  from  one  of  the  robbers. 
Geno,  seeing  that  his  master  had  detected  him  in  his  vil- 
lainy, murdered  him  to  conceal  his  crime,  thus  hoping  to 
escape  punishment.  But  it  was  fortunate  for  justice  that 
the  Lady  Verono  saw  him  commit  the  deed,  and  fled  to 
save  herself  from  this  terrible  monster  who  had  murdered 
the  kind  friend  who  had  fed  him  and  protected  him  for 
years.  It  was  also  stated  that  Geno  was  in  prison  await- 
ing his  trial  before  the  tribunal  of  justice. 

It  was  also  stated  that  an  attempt  was  made  to  arrest 
these  three  soldiers,  and  they  being  protected  by  the  regi- 
ment to  which  they  belonged,  fired  upon  the  officers  sent 
to  arrest  them.  And  thus  it  was  that  the  whole  regiment 
stood  in  open  defiance  to  the  established  authority  of  the 
garrison  and  were  guilty  of  mutiny,  and  that  when  the 
emperor  and  king  of  Naples  were  informed  of  these 
crimes  they  would  be  punished.  The  next  day  the  Lady 
Verono  had  the  officers  of  justice  ordered  to  the  palace. 
She  stated  that  she  left  Geno  alone  with  Count  Vilani, 
and  fled  in  terror  to  her  own  apartments.  They  exam- 
ined the  body,  and  it  was  found  that  he  had  died,  not 
from  the  wound  on  his  breast,  but  from  strangulation,  and 
evident  marks  of  a  bloody  hand  were  found  on  his  throat. 
These  circumstances  pointed  to  Geno,  and  they  went  to 
his  room  and  found  that  he  had  changed  his  apparel, 
which  showed  that  when  he  had  the  unfortunate  man  by 
the  throat  his  knee  was  on  his  breast,  and  there  saturated 
with  blood.  There  was,  of  course,  evidence  of  other  acts 
that  led  to  unpleasant  inquiries  that  did  not  suit  the 
countess;  and  as  these  faithful  servants  of  the  public 
desired,  above  all  things,  to  act  in  accordance  with  the 
wishes  of  one  now  so  wealthy  and  powerful,  they  humbly 


GENO. 


113 


rested,  and  were  content  to  drag  the  viilain  off  to  prison, 
to  answer  for  his  crime  before  the  tribunal  of  justice. 

When  Geno  appeared  in  the  morning  he  congratulated 
himself  on  his  success.  He  had  not  yet  received  the  gold 
from  Louis ;  but  that  was  sure,  as  he  had  the  confidence 
and  friendship  of  Verono.  Those  words  of  hers  were 
charming — "Geno,  obey  me,  and  all  thy  wishes  shall  be 
gratified." 

When  the  officers  of  the  law  arrested  him,  and  said, 
**You  are  charged  with  the  murder  of  Count  Vilani,"  he 
smiled  and  said,  "  Surely  this  is  but  a  little  pleasantr}' 
thou  art  playing  on  me." 

They  showed  him  their  authority  and  order  of  arrest. 
He  then  begged  to  be  taken  to  the  Lady  Verono,  but  was 
informed  that  the  lady  was  so  distressed  at  the  death  of 
the  count,  that  she  could  not  see  any  one,  and  sent  Geno 
word  that  on  the  day  of  trial  she  would  be  present,  and 
aid  him  to  the  extent  of  her  power.  His  cowardly  heart 
trembled  for  a  moment,  but  he  gathered  courage  again  by 
assuring  himself  that  it  was  not  possible  for  the  Lady 
Verono  to  betray  him  into  the  hands  of  the  law,  when  he 
was  but  the  instrument  in  her  hands  in  the  commission  of 
this  crime,  and  other  crimes  in  this  palace. 

This  artful  rogue  had  lost  his  cunnin^;.  When  Verono 
had  bribed  him  with  promises  to  commit  the  deed  they 
were  alone;  what  good  for  him,  with  his  villainous  looks, 
to  charge  the  countess  with  being  his  accomplice  in  crime  ? 
What  would  his  word  be  against  the  now  powerful  and 
wealthy  Verono  ?  Nothing.  The  people,  the  officers  of 
justice,  would  laugh  at  him,  jeer  him,  scoff  him,  call  him 
lying  dog.  Thus,  when  in  his  cell,  these  thoughts  came 
into  his  mind,  and  he  concluded   he  was  in  the  snare. 


ii 

IS 

; 

r  m. 

' 

1 

'••  H 


i'l 


■I    »     iH 

1;     ' 


!» 


"i|! 


kih, : 


«••        JL 


#■  .f ' 


114 


EXILES    OE  LOUISIANA. 


Yet  better  keep  a  silent  tongue,  and  rely  on  the  generosity 
of  Verono  to  save  him,  who  had  been  so  useful  to  her 
in  her  career  of  ambition. 

The  wily  villain,  with  all  his  cunning,  had  not  the  wis- 
dom to  see  that  because  he  had  been  useful  to  her  in  a 
career  of  crime,  to  gain  her  present  position,  was  the  sole 
and  only  cause  for  her  seeking  his  destruction,  and,  like 
the  assassin,  would  wish  to  conceal  the  tell-tale  dagger, 
covered  with  the  life-blood  of  the  victim  he  had  destroyed. 
The  success  that  comes  of  cunning,  instead  of  wisdom, 
brings  with  it  the  seeds  of  its  own  destruction. 

Count  Vilani's  remains  lay  here  in  state,  ready  to  be 
conveyed  to  Florence,  to  be  deposited  in  the  family  vault, 
to  lay  down  in  death  among  his  fathers,  some  of  whom 
have  slept  there  for  centuries.  In  a  few  days  they  were 
removed,  with  all  the  pomp  and  ceremony  of  so  distin- 
guished a  personage. 

I  le  is  beyond  both  the  praise  and  censure  of  mankind. 
Well  is  it  for  the  memory  of  erring  man  that  the  tomb 
covers  our  faults,  if  it  does  not  speak  of  our  virtues.  It 
is  a  pleasing  reflection,  that  we  all  feel  towards  the  dead  a 
desire  to  forget  and  forgive  their  faults,  and  enlarge  on 
their  good  qualities. 

When  we  have  sympathy  for  the  condemned  on  the 
scaffold,  or  confined  in  the  walls  of  the  gloomy  prison,  we 
do  not  sympathize  with  his  crimes,  but  sorrow  for  his  mis- 
fortune. 


MURAT,  KING  OF  NAPLES. 


"5 


IV. 
MuRAT,  King  of  Naples.     - 

The  emperor  Napoleon,  when  officially  informed  of  this 
unfortunate  mutiny,  was  aroused  to  the  highest  pitch  of 
anger.  His  orders  to  Murat,  king  of  Naples,  were  im- 
perative and  wrathful.  "  No  court  martial.  Put  R) 
death  every  man  engaged  in  this  violation  of  order  and 
discipline  if  you  decimate  the  entire  regiment." 

With  the  emperor,  there  was  no  offences  so  unpardona- 
ble, as  those  that  led  to  demoralization  of  the  army. 
What  he  disliked  most  in  this  affair,  was  the  national  as- 
pect, it  had  assumed  ;  bad  feeling  between  the  French  and 
Italian  soldiers.  He  punished  with  instant  death  the  man 
caught  in  fraudulent  nets  in  the  commissary  department. 
Shoddy  contractors  and  commissary  robbers  found  no 
safe  place  in  the  army  of  France,  under  his  control. 

It  was  these  inflexible  laws,  and  the  prompt  punishment 
of  everything  that  led  to  demoralization,  that  made  the  or- 
der and  discipline  in  his  army  almost  perfect ;  and  kept  his 
army  united  and  powerful. 

It  was  this  kind  of  discipline,  introduced  into  the  army 
of  Prussia  by  Frederick  the  Great,  that  gave  it  its  marked 
superiority  even  up  to  the  present  day. 

When  Joachim  Murat,  king  of  Naples,  received  the  em- 
perors orders  to  punish  this  mutiny  with  such  severity,  he 
was  struck  with  consternation  and  dismay.  He  knew  that 
many  of  these  soldiers  had  shared  with  him  both  danger 
and  hardship,  on  many  a  battlefield.  He  was  attached  to 
the  soldiers  by  feelings  of  pure  affection.  Oftentimes,  he 
had  said,  that  he  hoped  the  day  would  never  come  when 


ii6 


EXILES    OE  LOUISIANA. 


t 


51    •    «. 


\\     !;;!    '  -^ 


his  duty  would  compel  him  to  issue  an  order  to  have  a 
French  soldier  put  to  death.  The  day  had  come,  and 
brought  with  it  sorrow  and  regret. 

He  proceeded  to  Leghorn  to  obey  the  orders  of  the  em- 
peror. The  regiment  was  assembled  in  the  garrison  to 
receive  him.  His  stern  and  commanding  presence,  the 
severe  tones  of  his  ringing  voice,  with  his  fiery,  impetuous 
manner,  struck  the  entire  regiment  with  terror.  He  re- 
pressed his  feelings  of  sympathy,  and  stated  to  them  the 
imperative  orders  of  the  emperor,  and  said,  that  his  duty 
to  his  country  demanded  that  these  orders  should  be  en- 
forced to  the  letter. 

The  regiment  was  now  confined  in  the  garrison  and  sent 
a  deputation  to  Murat,  to  ask  for  clemency  and  mercy ; 
swearing  that  they  would  die  on  the  battle-field  under  the 
very  eyes  of  the  emperor.  Murat's  heart,  with  this  ap- 
peal, was  touched  with  pity  and  mercy.  Well  he  knew 
that  every  man  in  that  regiment  would  consider  such  a 
death  acceptable  under  any  circumstances.  At  length  he 
said  to  them,  in  tones  of  compassion,  "  I  will  accept  three, 
10  be  chosen  by  the  regiment  in  such  a  manner  as  they 
may  determine,  to  die  for  the  rest ;  and  thus  make  an  ex- 
ample that  no  such  breach  of  discipline  in  the  army  of 
France  can  go  unpunished.  And  I  will  thus  far  take  upon 
myself  the  responsibility  of  modifying  the  orders  of  the 
emperor." 

The  regiment  being  in  the  condition  in  which  we  have 
described,  Paul,  in  the  cool  hours  of  reflection,  when  the 
brain  was  not  fevered  with  the  wild  passions  of  hate  and 
vengeance,  saw  with  clearness  that  their  offence  could  not 
be  wholly  pardoned  without  some  example  to  deter  others 
from   such  mutinous   conduct   so   demoralizing   to  good 


MURAT,  KING  OF  NAPLES. 


117 


order.  They  received  Murat's  order  of  clemency  with 
feelings  of  gratitude.  They  at  once  proceeded  to  make 
arrangements  to  cast  lots,  for  the  three  who  were  to  suffer 
death,  to  atone  for  the  rest.  Paul  Lorraine  stepjjed  for- 
ward and  said  that  he  was  prepared  to  die,  and  that  he 
had  finally  resolved  to  suffer  the  penalty  of  his  own  folly, 
in  allowing  himself  to  be  betrayed  into  this  mutiny.  He 
said  there  would  be  no  joy,  no  happiness  to  him,  to  live, 
with  such  bitter  reflections  that  he  had  led  any  fellow- 
being  to  such  a  fate.  Jean  Gendron  stepped  forward  and 
stood  bravely  and  manfully  by  his  side.  Then  came 
Louis  Dejon,  last,  though  not  least  in  those  qualities 
that  make  the  real  and  true  man.  The  soldiers  who  stood 
around  these  brave,  dauntless  men,  were  moved  with  deep 
compassion,  and  the  entire  regiment  was  in  tears. 

When  Murat  was  informed  of  the  action  taken,  and 
these  three  men  had  offered  themselves  to  suffer  death  on 
behalf  of  the  regiment,  it  added  to  his  regrets.  The  act 
had  something  so  grandly  heroic,  that  the  king  of  Naples 
was  moved  with  intense  feeling.  Gladly  at  this  moment 
would  he  have  renounced  crown  and  sword  if  he  could 
with  duty  say  to  these  brave  men,  "  You  are  free." 


V. 

The  Sentence. 


At  the  solemn  hour  of  midnight,  Paul,  Jean,  and  Louis, 
were  conducted  before  Murat,  King  of  Naples,  to  receive 
the  sentence  of  death.  He  said  to  them,  "To-morrow 
evening,  near  nightfall,  outside  the  Pisan  Gate,  on  the 


ii8 


EXILES  OF  LOUISIANA. 


glacis,  you  will  be  shot.  I  know  you  are  brave  men,  and 
are  willing  to  die.  France  asks  of  you  this  sacrifice.  It 
was  noble  in  you  to  offer  your  lives,  thus  to  save  others 
eciually  guilty;  but  it  is  the  only  way  for  you  to  wipe  from 
memory,  dishonor  to  your  names.  1  rejoice  with  you  that 
you  are  so  noble,  in  your  last  hours.  I  rejoice  with  you 
that  you  are  so  heroic,  to  accept  death  rather  than 
dishonor.  I  will  charge  myself  with  the  duty  of  transmit- 
ting your  last  farewells,  your  last  regrets,  to  your  fathers 
and  your  mothers.  Have  you  thought  of  your  poor 
mothers  ? "  Sobs  stifled  their  voices  **  These  poor  women 
would  have  been  proud  of  you,  had  you  fallen  in  battle 
confronting  the  enemies  of  France.  It  is  unfortunate 
that  you  should  die  thus.  It  will  be  a  consolation  to 
them  to  know  that  France  demands  a  sacrifice  to  save 
the  discipline  and  order  of  her  Grand  An  ,  ;  and  that 
you  were  so  heroic  and  brave  as  to  say,  wt  ire  prepared 
to  die  for  our  country.  Your  parents  shall  not  want 
for  support  while  I  am  able  to  assist  them.  A  good 
priest  shall  be  with  you  to  offer  all  the  consolation  of  re- 
ligion. Think  of  God,  your  country,  and  your  mothers ; 
you  no  longer  belong  to  this  world." 

They  cast  themselves  weeping  at  the  feet  of  Murat,  not 
to  ask  him  for  pardon  or  mercy,  but  that  they  might  have 
forgiveness  before  death  from  their  commander,  whom  they 
loved  so  well. 

"  Poor  souls,  I  forgive  you.  I  pity  you,  and  could 
weep  with  you."  They  were  conducted  from  his  presence. 
Fie  could  no  longer  restrain  his  emotions  of  sorrow. 


THE  SENTENCE, 


119 


VI. 


Iphi  and  her  parents  had  been  alarmed  for  the  fate  of 
Paul,  Jean,  and  Louis,  from  the  first  time  they  had  heard 
of  this  unfortunate  mutiny.  The  news  of  the  death  sen- 
tence, almost  paralyzed  the  heart  of  Iphi  when  she  first 
heard  it.  They  had  rescued  her  from  a  fate  worse  than 
death ;  and  that  noble  act  was  the  cause  of  their  misfor- 
tunes. This  made  her  sorrow  intensely  bitter  and  hard  to 
endure.  She  had  compassion  even  on  Count  Vilani,  as 
cruelly  as  he  would  have  wronged  hei . 

There  was  no  despair,  or  wailing  c'ies  in  her  sorrowful 
plaints,  but  the  outpouring  of  tenderness  and  tears  of  a 
grand  heart,  that  saw  infinite  love,  away  and  beyond  the 
dark  shadows  of  earth's  gloomy  pathway. 

She  wept  and  sobbed,  and  said,  "  God  will  be  with  them 
when  they  pass  through  the  valley  of  death." 

Despair  never  comes  to  the  grand  soul  that  feels  in  the 
hour  of  agony,  that  God  is  still  present  with  infinite  love. 
Tears  may  flow,  the  heart  be  steeped  in  pain  and  grief,  yet 
there  is  still  that  shining  star  of  faith,  that  ever  beams 
bright,  clear,  and  radiant,  with  the  golden  promise  of  God's 
love  and  mercy  for  mankind. 

Even  nature  opened  her  lips  and  spoke  to  her.  Why 
so  concerned  about  death  ?  it  is  but  one  of  the  natural 
phases  and  conditions  of  the  immortal  life  of  the  human 
soui. 

Amidst  her  tears  she  would  say,  in  broken  sobs,  I  must 
not  weaken  myself  with  sorrow,  I  must  keep  strong,  now, 
and  not  allow  this  sad  event  to  break  mc  down  \  for  God 


120 


EXILES    OF  LOUISIANA. 


iJii  '  ■* 


W  .li!    Wk 


i  ^i::|j| 


has  given  me  a  duty  to  perform,  to  care  for  and  provide 
for  my  dear  old  parents,  when  jn  the  infirmities  of  age. 

She  nerved  herself  and  went  to  see  Paul,  Jean  and  Louis, 
for  the  last  time. 

The  meeting  between  Iphi  and  Jean  was  most  pathetic 
and  touching.  Her  love  for  Jean  was  strong  and  endur- 
ing, for  she  loved  him  for  his  virtues  of  truth,  sincerity,  and 
justice.  She  bade  them  all  a  final  farewell,  and  gave  to 
each  love's  parting  kiss  on  earth,  firmly  believing  that  she 
would  meet  them  all  in  a  better  world  beyond  the  grave. 

The  king  of  Naples  had  made  an  investigation  of  this 
affair  at  the  palace,  and  Vilani's  death,  and  regretted  very 
much  that  he  had  not  been  informed  of  Col.  Vilani's  des- 
potic conduct  over  the  garrison,  as  he  would  have  removed 
him  and  prevented  this  calamity. 

He  heard  of  the  meeting  of  Iphi  and  Jean,  and  was 
touched  with  pity  for  their  sad  fate,  and  sent  for  Iphi, 
hoping  he  could  speak  to  her  some  words  of  consolation. 
He  told  her  he  was  aware  of  the  cruelty  that  was  at- 
tempted to  be  perpetrated  upon  hei,  and  the  part  these 
brave  men  had  taken  to  rescue  her,  and  that  it  nearly 
broke  his  heart  to  condemn  them  to  death.  Maiden,  they 
are  not  stained  with  crime,  they  are  dying  like  true,  brave 
heroes.  That  he  would  gladly  save  their  lives  if  he  had  the 
power.  That  he  had  written  to  the  emperor  the  modifica- 
tion of  his  order  to  punish  all  engaged  with  death,  by  ac- 
cepting three  to  suffer  for  all. 

"  I  regret,  maiden,  that  your  friends  offered  themselves 
instead  of  drawing  lots  as  I  suggested.  Yet  I  honor  them 
for  it.  They  die  nrw  in  honor,  not  in  dishonor.  They 
die  a  glorious,  heroic  death,  and  in  all  my  life  in  the  armies 
of  France  I  have  not  witnessed  grander  acts  of  heroism. 


"•I  '  T  I 


TIfJS  SENTENCE. 


121 


Do  you  understand  me,  maiden,  in  what  1   say,  and  my 
position  ?  " 

"  Sire,  I  do  understand  what  you  say,  and  O,  how  my 
poor  humble  heart  thanks  you  for  this  kindness.  And  I 
know,  sire,  God  will  bless  you,  and  I  will  pray  for  you  all 
the  days  of  my  life ;  and  my  good  old  father  and  mother 
will  pray  for  you,  pray  God  to  bless  you  in  this  world  and 
in  the  world  to  come." 

"  Maiden,  console  yourself  with  this  reflection,  that  Joa- 
chim Murat,  king  of  Naples,  will  record  the  truth,  that 
these  brave  men  died  in  honor,  not  in  dishonor.  And  I 
say  in  conclusion,  that  I  would  resign  all  positions  in  life, 
if  my  duty  and  honor  to  France  would  allow  me  to  set 
them  free." 

"  Oh,  sire,  how  I  thank  you  for  these  words." 

"  Now,  dear  girl,  farewell ;  and  when  you  need  a  friend 
apply  to  Joachim  Murat,  king  of  Naples." 

I  phi  departed  to  convey  these  good  words  of  the  king 
to  her  parents. 

On  the  day  of  this  unfortunate  occurrence,  Paul  had 
taken  the  precaution  to  write  to  Annetta  and  his  mother, 
in  order  to  prepare  their  minds  for  the  worst.  After  he 
was  sentenced  he  wrote  the  sad  intelligence  with  sorrow 
and  tears.  He  plead  with  Annetta  not  to  mourn  and 
grieve  over  him,  but  to  kindly  remember  her  dear  Paul. 
He  renninded  her  that  her  mother  needed  her  care  and 
consolation,  and  recommended  them  both  to  the  care  of 
good  old  Uncle  Louis,  and  gave  his  last  farewell  to  his 
dear  friends. 

In  a  few  days  the  king  of  Naples  will  write  you  a  letter 
of  condolence.  He  concli^ded  by  saying,  farewell  wife 
and  mother,  the  best  beloved  of  all  the  earth,  we  surely 
will  meet  in  heaven. 


i\ 


I 


.!■'{ 


:  ;>r 


122 


EXILES  OF  LOUISIANA. 


VII. 


The  Execution. 


m 


I   I' 


It  is  the  evening  of  the  19th  June,  a.  d.  1808,  well 
on  towards  nightfall,  and  these  three  unfortunate  soldiers 
of  France  are  to  suffer  death,  to  maintain  the  rigid  and 
inexorable  laws  of  military  discipline,  in  the  French  army 
occupying  Italy. 

The  shadows  of  the  hills  are  cast  far  out  on  the  sea ; 
the  earth,  the  waters,  and  the  air,  and  the  busy  hum 
of  commerce,  on  the  mart  of  Leghorn,  are  all  silent  in 
this  solemn,  twilight  hour,  as  if  uniting  in  a  few  brief 
moments,  to  pity  these  victims  of  misfortune,  who  so  well 
deserved  a  better  fate.  The  golden  light  of  the  setting 
sun  still  lingers  on  the  sea,  beyond  the  long  shadows 
of  earth,  as  if  it  would  fain  light  their  pathway  through 
the  valley  of  death.  See !  there  comes  out  of  the  wide, 
open  gate  of  the  garrison,  a  regiment  of  soldiers,  march- 
ing to  the  tap  of  muffled  drums.  At  the  head  of  the 
regiment,  inside  of  a  hollow  square,  is  Paul,  Jean,  and 
Louis,  on  the  way  to  execution.  How  silent,  how  solemn, 
with  heads  bent,  and  flags  draped  in  mourning,  they 
march  along,  with  slow  measured  step.  They  are  veterans 
who  passed  through  the  fire  at  Marengo,  and  the  flames 
ot  war  at  Jena,  yet  every  cheek  is  moistened  with 
tears. 

They  march  along  through  the  wide  avenue,  lined  on 
either  side  with  mansion  and  palace,  towards  the  Pisan 
Gate,  and  many  a  kind  heart  in  these  mansions  and 
palaces  are  throbbing  with  pity  for  the  unfortunates  ;  for  it 


'filii 


i 


I 


! 

1 

1 

■jL, 

.'':■ 

M 

If 

.  .t 

.1 

4 

THE  EXECUTION, 


125 


has  gone  forth  that  the  king  wept  when  he  condemned 
them  to  death. 

They  pass  though  the  Pisan  Gate,  and  halt  upon  the 
glacis.  A  platoon  of  soldiers  is  marched  out  of  the 
ranks. 

Each  one  of  the  condemned  is  placed  at  the  head 
of  his  coffin,  twenty  paces  from  the  platoon.  The  ser- 
geant having  the  execution  in  charge  takes  each  one  by 
the  hand,  kisses  him  on  the  cheek,  and  says,  "  Farewell, 
brave  men,  are  you  ready  to  die  ? "  The  answer  is  in  the 
affirmative.  The  word  to  fire  is  given.  They  fall,  are 
laid  in  their  coffins,  and  are  carried  to  the  cemetery  on  the 
hill  for  interment.  The  regiment  is  marched  back  to  the 
garrison,  and  this  sad  drama  of  life  is  closed.  Night 
comes  with  her  shadows,  and  silently  falls  on  land  and 
sea.  The  shining  stars  are  soon  out  with  radiant  splendor 
in  the  clear,  blue  sky;  there  they  sparkle  in  countless 
numbers,  with  a  transcendent  glory  far  beyond  and  above 
all  the  grandeur  and  glory  this  dull  earth  has  to  offer  to 
the  admiring  gaze  of  mortal  man.  They  are  eloquent 
with  a  language  that  speaks  of  infinite  goodness  and 
wisdom.  They  sing  the  song  of  praise  to  that  God  who, 
the  humble  mother  of  the  Alps  valley  said,  "  In  the  end 
maketh  all  things  well."  The  dawn  of  the  next  day 
disclosed  three  new  made  graves  in  the  cemetery  on  the 
hill,  overlooking  the  wide,  open  sea.  They  lay  side  by 
side.  Alas,  for  thee  Annetta,  and  for  thee  Iphi !  The 
days  of  joy  that  are  past  and  gone  will  never  return. 
Good  is  it  for  both,  that  thy  faith  is  steadfast ;  that  there 
is  a  blessed  One  in  heaven,  who  tempers  the  wind  to 
the  shorn  lamb,  for  this  world  has  no  consolation  ade- 
quate to  thy  bereavement. 


ill 


I'M 


m 


126 


EXILES  OF  LOUISIANA. 


mv 


BOOK  IX. 


HI     .1: 


I. 

Tr.iBUNAi.  OF  Justice.- 

The  day  appointed  for  the  trial  of  Geno,  for  the 
murder  of  Count  Vilani,  arrived.  Tribunals  of  justice, 
in  States  under  imperialism,  clothe  themselves  in  all  the 
paraphernalia  that  inspires  awe  and  terror.  When  the 
criminal  is  on  trial,  the  executioner  is  present  with  some 
insignia  of  his  office.  The  judge  assumes  far  more  the 
looks  of  the  avenger  than  the  merciful.  This  is,  per- 
haps, the  case  in  all  governments  that  are  ruled  by  im- 
perialism. They  wish  to  have  the  people  look  upon  their 
rulers  and  masters  with  fear  and  trembling.  In  republican 
governments,  the  judge  exacts  respect  by  a  dignity  that 
arises  from  a  proper  appreciation  of  his  truly  important 
position.  He  is  not  the  enemy  of  the  unfortunate  man 
who  stands  in  his  presence  on  trial  for  his  existence,  but 
the  true,  merciful  friend,  who  sees  to  it  with  ceaseless 
vigilence,  that  the  presumption  of  his  innocence,  which 
the  law  throws  around  every  one,  is  not  removed  until  it 
is  proven  beyond  a  reasonable  doubt  that  he  merits  the 
punishment  which  the  law  has  affixed  to  his  crime. 

Geno  had  all  the  time  relied  on  the  hope  of  the 
assistance  of  Verono  to  save  him  in  the  last  hour.     When 


I 


TRIBUNAL  OF  JUSTICE. 


\2'J 


m 


brought  into  the  presence  of  his  judge,  with  the  officers 
of  the  law  as  his  accusers,  even  with  his  evil  appearance, 
now  so  friendless,  so  unprotected,  with  the  stern,  defying, 
and  threatening  look  of  the  judge  and  accusers,  it  is  strange 
that  even  Verono  was  not  herself  moved  with  at  least 
some  pity  for  the  poor  wretch. 

The  countess  and  Alonzo  appeared  as  witnesses, 
(leno  had  an  advocate  to  defend  him ;  paid  and  selected 
by  his  enemies.  The  officer  of  police  testified  to  the 
marks  on  the  throat  of  the  deceased ;  that  the  wound 
on  the  breast  was  not  the  cause  of  his  death,  the  mark 
of  the  bloody  hand  on  the  throat,  the  blood  on  his 
clothes  where  the  knee  had  been  placed  on  the  breast 
of  the  dead,  his  guilty  looks  and  actions.  Some  questions 
were  asked  as  to  the  persons  who  entered  the  house  and 
made  the  assault  upon  Vilani ;  but  a  look  from  the  court 
silenced  all  inquiry  upon  that  subject. 

The  lady  Countess  Verono,  came  forward  and  testi- 
fied. The  court  was  all  humility  and  obeisance  to  her 
ladyship,  while  Verono  repaid  him  with  one  of  her  most 
gracious  smiles. 

"  What  does  your  ladyship  desire  to  state  with  regard 
to  the  prisoner }  " 

"  Nothing,  my  lord  ;  except  that  when  this  dreadful 
encounter  took  place  in  the  palace,  T  fled  from  the  room 
in  terror,  and  sought  safety  in  my  own  chambers,  under 
the  protection  of  my  attendants." 

"  Will  your  ladyship  state  if  you  knew  anything  of  the 
whereabouts  of  Geno,  when  you  left  the  room  ?  " 

"  Nothing,  my  lord ;  except  I  left  him  alone  with 
Count  Vilani,  and  knew  nothing  of  J:he  matter  until  the 
my    attendants    finding    it    necessary   to 


m 


next 


morning, 


I 


I'll 


m^'l 


P 


128 


EXJLES  OF  LOUISIANA. 


;i 


If 


'm 


w    * 


soothe  my  disordered,  fiervous  condition  with  powerful 
narcotics. 

*"  I  was  very  much  shocked  with  the  lamentable  and 
tragic  ending  of  Count  Vilani,  while  attempting  to  force 
this  innocent  girl  into  marriage.  Alonzo  and  myself 
made  every  exertion  in  our  power  to  persuade  him  from 
it,  but  all  in  vain.  At  length,  from  pure  pity  and  com- 
passion for  the  girl,  we  had  enough  of  her  friends  intro- 
duced into  the  palace  to  rescue  her,  and  carry  her  off 
and  injure  no  one,  and  had  it  not  been  for  the  unfortunate 
interference  of  Geno,  all  would  have  been  well ;  the  poor 
girl  saved,  and  the  life  of  a  nobleman  preserved." 

Geno,  at  best  had  a  viilanous  look,  but  now  his  face 
was  absolutely  hideous.  It  was  livid  with  rage,  agony, 
and  resentment.  He  turned  to  speak,  but  his  throat  sent 
forth  a  horrible  and  unearthly  sound.  The  judge  prompt- 
ly silenced  him  with  a  command,  "Silence,  guilty  wretch  !  " 
He  looked  at  the  executioner,  and  he  returned  the  look  to 
Geno,  with  an  angry  scowl  that  made  him  tremble.  He 
saw  now  his  doom  was  sealed ;  the  gibbet  was  before  him, 
with  all  its  horrors.  He  saw  there  was  no  hope,  no  par- 
don for  him  ;  he  realized  with '  dismay  that  Verono  had 
planned  his  destruction  to  conceal  the  evidence  of  her  own 
guilt.  He  again  and  again  tried  to  speak,  but  was  stunned 
with  a  blow  from  an  officer. 

Alonzo  and  Verono  were  politely  excused  from  further 
attendance  upon  the  trial.  After  their  departure,  the 
court,  in  a  solemn  and  awe  inspiring  manner,  condemned 
the  unfortunate  Geno  to  death.  He  was  immediately 
carried  to  the  hall  and  ironed,  and  on  the  next  day  he  suf- 
fered the  extreme  penalty  of  the  law. 


A      ) 


THE  BEGGAR, 


129 


II. 
The  Beggar. 


Seek  and  ye  shall  find, 

Knock  and  it  will  be  opened  unto  you. 

Sometime  after  the  events  of  the  last  chapter ;  towards 
night-fall,  when  they  were  about  to  close  the  City  Gate 
leading  out  on  the  glacis,  there  passed  out  of  the  city  a 
beggar,  clothed  in  the  ragged  garb  of  poverty,  the  cast 
off  raiment  of  some  nobleman.  He  was  old,  infirm,  and 
very  wretched.  His  form  was  tall,  and  bent  with  age. 
His  features  were  cadaverous,  and  blotched  with  dark,  pal- 
lid spots,  while  his  eyes  burned  and  glared  with  either  fa- 
naticism or  insanity. 

He  would  have  been  hideous,  were  he  not  grotesque,  or 
grotesque  if  not  hideous. 

No  one  seemed  to  notice  him,  except  some  kind  ones 
who  gave  him  alms.  They  perhaps  had  seen  him  often- 
times and  knew  him  well. 

He  had  under  his  arm  a  sack  in  which  were  some  crusts 
of  bread  and  meat  and  gifts  of  charity  given  him  by  some 
kind  good  heart  that  had  pitied  his  misfortunes.  He 
walked  bent,  and  used  what  seemed  to  be  an  old  worn-out 
spade  as  a  support  to  his  tottering  frame. 

The  sky  was  dull  and  leaden  in  its  aspect,  and  covered 
here  and  there  with  blotches  of  inky  clouds,  except  along 
the  western  horizon  there  were  long  lines  of  gloomy  crim- 
son light,  the  last  reflections  of  the  S'etting  sun.  Had  you 
followed  after  this  man  in  the  darkness  and  noticed  him 
when  he  reached  the  summit  of  the  hill,  between  you  and 
the  glimmer  of  the  horizon,  you  would  have  noticed  that 


'  \  I 


\\ 


130 


EXILES   OF  LOUISIANA. 


\ 


i-lir; 


he  no  longer  walked  bent,  but  was  standing  erect  and 
turning  himself  around  as  if  looking  for  something. 

He  passed  down  the  hill,  on  the  opposite  side,  and  was 
now  crawling  on  his  hands  and  knees,  along  the  inside  of  a 
broken  wall,  the  remains  of  some  ancient  structure  that 
had  long  since  fallen  to  ruins.  There  were  some  old 
stunted  trees,  that  grew  by  the  side  of  the  wall,  and  from 
his  action  you  would  suppose  that  he  was  measuring  the 
distance  these  trees  stood  the  one  from  the  other,  and  how 
far  each  tree  stood  from  the  wall.  The  broken  spade  is 
no  longer  a  walking  stick,  but  is  used  for  the  purpose  de- 
signed. What  is  the  beggar  doing  ?  Surely  he  must  be 
looking  for  concealed  treasure.  Perhaps  he  is  no  beggar, 
but  a  robber,  who  hides  in  this  deserted  place  his  stolen 
goods. 

He  has  now  found  the  object  of  his  search.  It  is 
placed  in  his  sack  and  slung  over  his  shoulder,  and  it  be- 
ing now  quite  dark  he  assumes  an  upright  position,  and 
gropes  his  way  out  of  the  ruins. 


ii^il  %■%¥ 


in. 


Not  far  from  this  place  is  the  dwelling  and  home  of  Iphi 
and  her  parents.  At  this  very  hour  they  were  talking  of 
the  sad  fate  of  their  good  friends.  Iphi  still  has  that 
cheerful,  contented  smile.  She  is  not  broken  down  with 
sorrow,  for  she  knows  well  that  her  duty  in  this  world  is 
still  to  struggle,  and  bring  happiness  and  contentment  to 
the  living.  She  has  not  lost  one  particle  of  her  energy 
and  industry  to  procure  every  comfort  for  her  dear  pa- 
rents.    She  loves  to  dwell  on  the  memory  of  her  dear 


1 


THE  BEGGAR. 


131 


Jean,  and  believes  that  in  the  other  world  he  is  happy, 
and  cared  for  by  One  who  is  able  to  bless  him  with  a  joy 
far  above  all  earthly  kindness,  and  that  in  the  world 
to  come  they  will  be  together  again,  never  more  to  separ- 
ate. 

They  were  at  this  time,  praising  and  blessing  Murat, 
king  of  Naples,  for  his  generous  and  noble  bounty.  He 
had  heard  of  the  conduct  of  Jean,  Louis,  and  Paul,  in 
rescuing  Iphi  from  the  villainous  plot  of  Vilank  He  pur- 
chased for  them  this  cottage  and  the  grounds,  upon  which 
were  planted  their  vineyard,  their  garden  for  flowers,  and 
the  small  fruit  orchard.  He  gave  them  to  understand, 
that  the  death  of  these  brave  men  was  no  dishonor  to 
their  names  and  memory,  —  that  France  had  demanded 
some  sacrifice,  so  as  to  save  her  armies  from  demoraliza- 
tion, and  these  brave  men  came  forward,  and  offered  up 
their  lives  to  save  others  who  were  equally  to  blame  for 
this  unfortunate  calamity. 

Murat,  agreeable  to  his  promise,  had  written  to  Mother 
Lorraine,  in  substance  what  he  had  written  to  Iphi's  and 
Jean's  parents,  and  as  well  to  Louis'  parents,  who  resided 
close  to  the  same  place,  to  see  that  none  of  them  were 
in  want 'for  support,  as  long  as  he  had  the  power  and 
means  to  aid  them. 

While  they  were  conversing  of  these  things,  there  was  a 
step  at  the  door  and  then  a  gentle  knock.  Iphi  said, 
*'  Come  in  !  "  The  door  slowly  opened,  and  the  beggar  that 
we  saw  passing  out  of  the  Pisan  gate,  stood  in  the  door- 
way. In  the  full  light  that  fell  upon  this  man,  his  face 
was  more  haggard  and  care-worn,  his  garments  more  tat- 
tered and  ragged,  his  step  more  feeble,  and  his  body  more 
bent  than  when  first  we  saw  him.     Everything  about  his 


I 


■  I 


■I 


132 


EXILES   OF  LOUISIANA. 


1  '"' 


m  ^i  f 


miserable  appearance  seemed  to  say,  I  am  poor;  pity  lue, 
help  me  ! 

Iphi  said  to  him,  "  Poor  man,  come  in.  This  house  is 
ever  open  to  the  poor."  He  sat  down  on  a  seat,  and  laid 
his  sack  on  the  floor.  The  old  spade  he  had  perhaps  con- 
cealed or  thrown  away. 

I  phi  had  frequently  seen  this  man  on  the  streets,  and  at 
the  market-place  in  the  city,  and  recollected  seeing  him 
several  times  at  the  gate  of  Vilani  Palace,  talking  to  Alon- 
zo,  but  who  he  was,  or  from  whence  he  came,  she  knew 
not.  Iphi  kindly  asked  him  if  he  needed  help  in  any 
way. 

He  said  in  reply,  "  I  came  not  to  beg :  I  am  present  in 
this  house  of  prayer  in  the  name  of  God,  to  bring  gifts  to 
the  poor."  His  earnest  manner,  strange,  wild  appearance, 
and  above  all,  that  terrible  energy  that  flashed  in  his  eyes, 
and  was  apparent  in  the  deep,  earnest  tones  of  his  voice, 
carried  conviction  to  the  hearers  that  he  was  in  earnest 
in  what  he  had  said. 

He  continued  in  the  same  impressive  manner.  "In  the 
midnight  hour,  an  angel  of  God  came  to  me  and  said: 
'  You  know  where  there  is  gold  that  has  iDcen  cursed  with 
crime ;  you  need  it  not.  In  the  hands  of  charity,  it  will  be 
a  blessing  to  the  poor,  and  thus  atone  for  the  evil  it  has 
wrought.  There  is  in  your  midst,  one  whose  heart  is  full 
of  (he  grandeur  of  Jesi;,-;.  It  is  Iphi.  The  Greek  flower 
girl.  Take  ii  to  her  ii  t'le  name  of  God,  and  with  her  it 
shall  be  blest  in  deeds  (»f  charity,  and  mercy.'" 

This  scene  was  so  strange  and  solemn,  and  this  state- 
ment of  the  appearance  of  the  Angel,  and  the  words  spoken, 
that  all  were  inspired  with  reverential  awe.  The  beggar 
rested  his  head  on  his  hands  in  an  humble  attitude,  as  if  in 
prayer. 


THE  BEGGAR. 


133 


Iplii  at  last  b\\)kc  the  silence  by  saying  that  for  her  to 
be  in  possession  of  gold,  woukl  make  people  talk  evil  of 
her,  that  it  was  not  honest  that  she  had  so  much  gold  to 
give  to  the  poor. 

"  What  matters  it,  noble  maiden,  God  knows  that  thy 
heart  is  pure  and  truthful,  and  full  of  loving  kindness." 

Iphi  was  still  fearful  that  some  evil  would  come  of  this, 
but  what  could  she  do  .<*  Was  this  some  temptation,  or 
was  it  some  move  to  entrap  her  into  peril  and  danger  ? 
She  could  determine  nothing ;  she  knew  not  what  to  say. 

At  length  she  spoke  to  him.  "  If  I  refuse  to  accept 
this  gift  would  you  take  the  gold  with  you  when  you  de- 
part and  use  it  yourself  in  purposes  of  charity  ?  " 

Tii  a  firm  voice  he  said,  "No;  it  remains  when  I  go 
hence.  I  obey  the  orders  of  my  master.  I  dare  not  take 
it.  When  I  go,  it  is  without  it.  You  can  return  it  to  no 
one,  no  one  owns  it.  You  know  not  now,  nor  never  will 
in  this  world  know,  who  brought  this  gift  to  you.  The  In- 
finite has  given  you  this  gold  for  deeds  of  charity  and  to 
save  tile  lost  and  ruined.  You  need  never  attempt  to  dis- 
cern from  whence  it  came,  or  who  I  am  ;  for  never  in  this 
world  will  you  know.  Accept  it  and  use  it;  for  it  is  the 
will  of  the  mighty  one  that  you  should  do  so." 

He  thrust  his  hands  into  the  sack  and  drew  out  two 
sacks  of  gold.  One  fastened  with  a  string  the  other  with 
a  piece  of  fine  wire. 

He  arose  from  his  seat,  placed  the  empty  bag  under  his 
arm,  and  said,  in  a  solemn  voice,  "  May  God  ever  bless 
the  dear  noble  hearts  who  dwell  beneath  this  roof,  where 
abideth  love,  charity,  and  mercy,  and  is  exalted  far  above 
the  palace  where  pride,  vanity,  and  ambition,  hold  liceu- 
tious  revelry." 


if 


m 


I 

t 


t  "t 


?■  •♦ 


if  ' 


if  V 


134 


EXILES  OF  LOUISIANA. 


These  good  people  entreated  him  kindly  to  stay  until 
the  light  of  morn  would  show  him  his  way. 

He  said  nay,  and  passed  out  into  night  and  darkness 
and  they  saw  him  no  more.  It  was  very  evident  that 
nothing  whatever  would  change  this  man  from  his  purpose. 
Any  one  to  have  witnessed  his  appearance,  his  words  and 
actions,  would  conclude  that  he  was  acting  in  com- 
pliance with  what  he  firmly  believed  to  be  the  command 
of  God. 

Now,  what  were  Iphi  and  her  parents  to  do  with  this 
gold,  evidently  a  large  amount  in  value  t  It  was  to  them 
a  novel  poc'tioii,  apd  that  night  there  was  earnest  prayer 
for  divine  guidance.  They  sat  it  away  in  a  safe  place 
with  the  intention  of  awaiting  events,  and  perhaps  some- 
thing would  come  to  light,  and  explain  the  mystery. 

The  father  and  mother  both  suggested  to  Iphi  to  see 
Alonzo,  and  perhaps  he  could  give  them  some  instructions 
what  to  do.  Iphi  now  recollected  that  she  had  herself  giv- 
en this  beggar  small  pieces  of  coin  as  alms,  and  had 
seen  others  do  it ;  and  how  was  it  possible  that  he  could 
have  all  this  gold  honestly.  Yet  his  sincerity  and  earnest 
truthfulness  seemed  beyond  question.  If  he  had  stolen 
this  gold  as  a  robber,  why  should  he  bring  it  to  them  to 
give  to  the  poor.  It  was  a  mystery,  and  they  concluded 
not  to  use  it  until  they  became  convinced  that  this  money 
was  honestly  his  to  give  away  in  deeds  of  charity. 


IV. 

Ambition's  Triumph. 

The  lady  Countess  De  Vilani,  was  now  the  star  of  fash- 
ion.    The  picture  she  drew  to  allure  the  humble  Iphi  was 


ill 


AMBITION'S  TRIUMPH. 


'35 


marked  with  poverty  in  comparison  to  the  actual  splendor 
and  extravagance  of  her  own  nresent  life.  She  seemed  to 
be  ambitious  to  cast  in  the  shadow  the  princely  style  of 
royalty.  Her  equipage  and  attendants  were  queenly  in 
their  style  and  numbers.  The  world,  or  at  least  the  fash- 
ionable part  of  it,  worshipped  her  with  adulation  and 
praise.  They  said.  We  adore  her  for  her  proud,  lofty  spirit, 
her  'jreat  ambition,  and  above  all  her  splendid  fortune 
and  success,  and  the  possession  oi  all  the  things  in  this 
world  that  can  be  desired  to  make  one  happy  and  pros- 
perous. 

She  paid  these  sycophants  and  flatterers  well  for  sound- 
ing her  praise.  She  added  greatly  to  the  adornments  and 
style  of  the  palace,  and  there  she  gave  them  fete  after  fete, 
with  the  most  lavish  expenditure.  These  festivals  at  the 
Vilani  Palace  were  the  admiration  of  the  nobility  far  and 
wide,  and  it  seemed  as  if  the  Countess  De  Vilani  was  far 
from  being  any  discredit  to  the  grand  fame  of  her  ces- 
tors,  the  wealthy  and  powerful  Medici. 

At  these  festivals,  all  ablaze  with  light  and  splendor  — 
her  classic  features,  elegant  form  and  magnificent  apparel 
—  she  looked  the  very  queen,  of  beauty  and  fashion.  She 
possessed  the  most  consummate  skill  in  address,  and  act- 
ed well  her  part  that  every  one  would  exclaim,  "  What  a 
charmi'^g  lady  is  the  Countess  ?  "  With  all  this  success, 
these  votaries  of  pleasure  at  her  very  feet,  this  immense 
wealth,  great  talent,  pe'-sonal  beauty,  surely  the  Lady  Ver- 
ono,  Countess  Vilani,  must  be  supremely  happy.  There 
are  now  no  living  witnesses  who  can  bear  testimony  to  the 
dark  secret  of  her  life,  except  the  quiet,  retired  Alonzo, 
who  she  but  seldom  sees  or  thinks  of,  as  he  takes  no  part 
in  this   dashing   life   of  pleasure.     From  him,  therefore, 


II 


:| 


IP 


1 


I 


If 


p 


;?"'!  :;*■ 


<■- 


li'^ii 


irl  m 


■■'■  ^.:> 
-I  f.; 


■A  H 


136 


EXILES  OF  LOUISIANA. 


there  is  no  clanger,  and  besides  he  knows  of  no  crime   ex- 
cept the  one  in  which  he  was  himself  an  accomplice. 

There  was  no  witness  to  the  part  she  took  in  the  mur- 
der of  Vilani,  except  Geno ;  and  her  scheme  for  removing 
Count  Vilani  and  casting  Geno  into  the  pit  had  succeeded, 
and  left  no  evidence  of  crime  against  her. 

She  had  no  God  to  feai,  for  as  Iphi  told  her,  she  dwelt 
in  a  world  that  had  no  God,  and  took  no  part  in  the  loving 
kindness  of  the  Jesus  she  loved  and  worshipped.  There- 
fore she  must  be  happy,  for  all  her  wishes  were  gratified, 
crowned  with  success,  and  she  the  proud,  triumphant  mis- 
tress of  her  own  destiny.  What  more  is  there  to  kindle 
the  flames  of  ambition.-*  Nothing.  Then  is  she  t«'i'; 
happy  and  content. 

There  are  times  when  mysterious  moans  come  out  of 
darkness,  as  if  violated  justice  was  struggling  for  utter- 
ance and  vindication,  and  no  one  to  hear  her  or  to  answer 
her  demands.  It  is  one  of  the  convictions  that  sometimes 
exist  in  the  public  mind  and  heart  that  is  ever  struggling 
for  utterance,  and  yet  cannot  find  expression  to  declare  its 
judgment. 

The  vast  show  of  wealth,  and  the  magnificent  display. in 
the  present  life  of  the  Countess  De  Vilani,  revived  the  old 
gossip  of  the  secret  disappearance  of  Francisco,  the  in- 
sane cousin.  It  found  its  way  among  her  friends  and  ad- 
mirers. They  would  often  want  the  countess  to  know  what 
sincere  friends  they  were  to  her,  by  denying  the  accursed 
slander,  and  again  and  again  these  tales  would  come  to 
her  ears,  until  there  was  a  secret  dread  in  her  mind  that 
perhaps  some  one  had  witnessed  the  dreadful  part  she 
took  in  the  murder  of  the  count. 

The  talk  among  the  gossips  and  news-mongers  in  Leg- 


"^1 


;l|  ,i 


ii 


AMBITION'S  TRIUMPH. 


137 


horn  now  was  that  the  Countess  De  Vilani,  had  been  by- 
some  unknown  persons,  most  cruelly  slandered  in  being 
accused  as  an  accomplice  in  the  crime  of  the  murder  of 
Francisco,  and  these  slanderers  had  better  beware  or  they 
would  be  severely  punished  for  such  baseness  towards  the 
noble  countess. 

The  story  now  afloat  and  current  and  not  denied,  was 
that  Alonzo  and  Geno  were  the  guilty  parties,  that  there 
was  positive  proof  among  some  of  the  servants  in  the  pal- 
ace, living  here  at  the  time  the  crime  was  committed,  who 
stated  that  they  knew  that  Geno  carried  the  poison  and 
gave  it  to  Alonzo,  and  that  he  administered  it  to  the  un- 
fortunate  Francisco. 

These  charges,  not  being  denied  by  the  ardent  admirers 
of  the  countess,  became  more  positive  and  direct.  The 
quiet  and  unliable  Alonzo  was  not  disturbed  by  these  ac- 
cusations, although  oftentimes  informed  of  them.  This 
calm  indifference  of  Alonzo  to  these  positive  and  direct 
charges  of  a  crime  so  heinous,  with  a  penalty  so  terrible, 
was  to  the  countess  strange  and  unaccountable. 

She  could  not  silence  these  tales,  but  found  to  her  ter- 
ror, they  increased  instead  of  diminished.  There  was  no 
telling  where  they  came  from.  No  one  knew,  or  could 
tell.  No  one  knew  why  the  people  believed  in  such  a 
thing,  nor  had  they  ever  heard  any  one  say  any  thing  posi- 
tive about  it.  To  add  to  her  uneasiness  about  this  trouble, 
there  was  a  perceptible  change  in  Alonzo.  He  was  more 
thoughtful,  and  absented  himself  more  from  her  presence. 
He  was  more  punctual  in  attendance  on  the  confessional, 
and  at  times,  would  slightly  speak  of  repentance,  and 
atonement,  and  being  sorry  for  acts  committed  in  the  past. 
There  were  times  she  thought  it  possible,  that  when  Geno 


» 


J; 


m 


•  .3 


''  -1 


^M 


1? 


138 


EXILES  OF  LOUISIANA. 


1  i  II 


Sj    -il 


-I  f' 


made  his  confession  of  guilt  at  his  last  hour,  he  might 
have  included  her  in  his  confession,  as  participating  in  his 
crimes.  Yet  she  knew  that  this  was  not  the  source  of  the 
public  gossip  and  talk,  that  was  constantly  coming  to  her 
ears,  and  so  repugnant  to  her  feelings.  The  powerful  and 
wealthy  countess  found  to  her  regret,  that  her  frowns 
would  not  oven  silence  the  gossip  of  Leghorn,  let  alone 
all  Italy. 

Could  it  be  possible  that  Alonzo  was,  through  his  infat- 
uation on  repentance  and  making  atonement,  betraying  her 
to  her  ruii:  These  reflections,  run.ning  in  her  mind,  kept 
increasing  n  ;xiety  to  find  out  the  true  origin  of  these 

reports,  and  wIl.i  one  bold  act,  set  them  at  icst  forever. 
She  had  lost  none  of  her  darinij  and  courage,  but  tlie  idea 
of  a  public  trial,  condemnation,  and  a  disgraceful  death  on 
the  scaflold,  was  to  her  pride  horrible  in  the  extreme.  To 
be  tried  in  a  public  tribunal  of  justice,  as  Geno  was  tried, 
and  so  condemned,  and  so  executed  —  she  could  not  for  a 
moment  endure  the  thought  of  such  a  ghastly  spectacle. 

If  perchance  some  daring  one  should  charge  me  with 
the  crime,  and  drag  Alonzo  into  court  to  testify,  how 
would  this  simple  being  act.  This  new-born  fanaticism 
of  his  in  the  cause  of  Christianity  and  piety,  and  confes- 
sion, for  the  sake  of  pardon  for  his  sins,  would  drive  him 
to  sacrifice  both  me  and  himself,  to  save  his  soul  from  the 
flames  of  perdition. 

The  penitent  Alonzo  will  yet  prove  more  dangerous  to 
my  safety  and  security  than  the  villanous  Geno.  Fool 
that  I  was,  that  I  did  not  clear  them  all  away  from  my 
pathway.  Can  I  use  this  talisman  (looking  at  the  ring  on 
her  finger  with  the  serpent's  head)  "i  The  danger  at  this 
time,  when  the  public  mind  is  full  of  suspicions  against 


■A 
i 


AMBITION'S  TRIUMPH. 


139 


me,  would  render  such  an  act  dangerous  and  full  of 
peril. 

Francisco  Vilani,  it  can  be  proved,  died  in  Alonzo's 
charge,  and  when  they  were  alone,  Geno  carried  the  poi- 
soned food,  gave  it  to  Alonzo,  and  thus  he  was,  in  fact,  the 
actual  perpetrator  of  the  crime.  How  can  he  connect  me 
with  Ills  guilt.  No  one  except  Geno  or  Vilani  could  have 
done  that.  Then  I  have  it.  I  will  forever  wipe  this  slan- 
der from  my  name  by  having  some  friend  charge  Alonzo 
as  being  the  real  perpetrator  of  this  crime,  and  send  him 
after  Geno.  He  will  become  penitent,  confess  his  crime, 
and  die  willingly,  and  thus  the  public  mind  will  be  put  at 
rest  forever  on  this  troublesome  affair  that  mars  my  pleas- 
ure and  enjoyment.  I  will  think  of  this ;  it  seems  my 
best  and  only  plan. 

If  he  must  die,  the  deed  must  be  done  by  myself,  for  I 
will  have  no  more  witnesses. '  Let  me  reflect. 

First  the  report  was  current,  that  the  Countess  De  Vila- 
ni was  strongly  suspected  as  an  accomplice  in  the  murder 
of  Francisco.     The  act  would  have  an  ugly  look. 

Her  friends  had  started  the  report  that  Alonzo  was 
alone  the  guilty  party,  as  Francisco  died  while  alone  with 
him,  and  in  his  special  charge. 

This  changed  the  current  of  opinion,  and  it  came  to 
light  that  there  were  witnesses  in  the  palace  who  knew  that 
Geno  and  Alonzo  were  in  fact  the  guilty  ones. 

Then  Alonzo  dies  suddenly.  The  conclusion  will  be 
poison,  or  that  he  had  committed  suicide.  Perhaps  it  can 
be  made  to  so  appear.  But  this  plan  of  throwing  the 
crime  on  Alonzo,  has  brought  to  light  the  fact  that  Fran- 
cisco was  murdered  by  Count  Vilani's  confidential  servant, 
Geno. 


I: 


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■  *> 

if 


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.1^  ':       111  .■•      ' 


i     . 


140 


EXILES   OF  LOUJSTANA. 


Then  why  is  Lady  Verono  the  head  of  the  household, 
enjoying  this  wealth  ?  How  is  it  possible  for  her  to  es- 
cape with  these  facts  proven.  There  is  but  one  way. 
Have  Alonzo  charged  with  the  crime  in  the  tribunal  of 
justice  ;  prove  that  he  and  Geno  committed  the  crime, 
that  no  one  else  knew  anything  about  the  matter,  that 
Alonzo  reported  him  dead,  and  that  he  died  in  his  sole 
charge. 

Thus  I  am  resolved  to  remove  Alonzo  from  my  path- 
way. And  I  will  use  the  law  to  work  my  ends,  and  thus, 
in  the  end,  be  the  supreme  mistress  of  this  household, 
the  mistress  of  my  own  fate,  the  architect  of  my  own 
fortune. 


V. 

Alonzo. 


She  determined  at  length  to  question  Alonzo  on  the 
subject,  and  ascertain  if  possible  his  views  and  intentions^ 
and  see  if  he  in  any  manner  suspected  her  of  having  any 
part  in  starting  these  accusations. 

Accordingly,  at  her  request,  Alonzo  was  informed  that 
she  wished  to  see  him  in  her  apartments,  on  matters  of 
importance.  Alonzo,  prompt  to  answer  the  request,  ap- 
peared in  the  presence  of  the  countess.  His  manner  and 
appearance  was  more  humble  and  obedient  than  ever. 
His  look  was  much  more  care-worn  and  anxious  than 
usual,  and  if  possible,  more  quiet  and  reserved. 

Countess, — Good  day  to  you,  my  faithful  friend  Alonzo. 
I  have  not  had  the  pleasure  of  your  company  for  some 
time.     Why  so  distant  and  reserved  of  late. 


ALONZO. 


141 


M 


Alonzo.  —  You  can  be  assured  my  lady,  that  it  is  not 
tliat  I  am  indifferent  to  your  welfare  and  happiness,  for 
that  is  vastly  more  important  to  me  than  any  other  con- 
sideration in  this  world. 

Countess.  — It  has  grieved  me  of  late  that  the  gossips  of 
Leghorn  are  so  unjust  as  to  charge  you  with  crime,  and  to 
drag  before  the  public  gaze  the  old  forgotten  slander  of 
the   cause  of    the   death   of   the   unfortunate     Francisco. 

Alonzo. — I  am  willing  to  meet  my  fate,  be  it  what  it  may. 
I  am  in  the  hands  of  the  Infinite,  who  is  above  all,  and 
worketh  out  his  own  will.  I  am  ready  and  willing  to  stand 
before  my  accusers  in  the  tribunal  of  justice.  If  con- 
demned by  the  laws  of  my  country,  I  am  willing  to  suffer. 
It  is  my  destiny.  So  be  it,  if  it  is  decreed  that  I  shall 
suffer.  Human  life  is  wrapt  in  mystery.  We  cannot 
judge  God's  motives  or  designs.  We  cannot  say  to  him 
that  this  and  this  is  right,  this  and  this  is  wrong.  But  we 
can  place  ourselves  in  accord  with  him,  by  taking  to  our 
souls  the  lessons  taught  by  Jesus  and  the  prophets  of  old. 
*  Be  charitable  and  merciful  to  all  mankind,  and  unspeak- 
able joy  will  come  to  thee  in  the  end.' 

Countess.  —  Well !  well !  Alonzo,  you  have  been  taking 
lessons  from  Iphi.  I  hoped  that  all  this  nonsense  about 
humanity  and  charity,  love  and  mercy  had  come  to  an  end, 
and  that  you  were  prepared  to  meet  your  enemies  face  to 
face,  with  pride,  courage,  and  defiance,  and  be  true  to  the 
fame  of  your  ancestors. 

Alonzo.  —  My  lady  I  fear  not ;  for  myself,  I  am  content. 
It  is  for  you  that  my  soul  is  troubled ;  it  is  danger  that 
thref.tens  you,  that  brings  this  gloom  upon  my  heart. 

Countess.  —  Fear  not  for  me,  Alonzo  ;  the  only  thing  that 
I   fear  is,    that  some  busy    body   may   charge  you  with 


t-i  1 


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142 


EXILES  OF  LOUISIANA. 


1.1 


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a 


U  .'* 


%m 


'  I 


the  crime  before  the  tribunal  of  justice,  and  I  be  com- 
pelled to  bear  witness  in  the  trial  against  you,  which  I 
would  well  desire  to  avoid. 

Alonzo.  —  Fear  not  for  that,  my  lady.  I  will  confess  to 
all  my  crimes  that  are  true,  and  charged  against  me. 

Thus  the  conversation  ended.  Alonzo  departed,  and  the 
Countess  Vilani  sat  musing  intently  on  the  strange  condi- 
tion of  things,  and  the  fearful  part  that  threatened  her 
very  existence. 

"  Ah !  "  she  said.  "  I  have  removed  the  least  dangerous 
witness.  Geno's  villany  and  cowardice  was  far  more  safe 
than  Alonzo's  fanaticism  and  willingness  to  confess  and 
suffer.     I  see  my  danger  and  peril. 

"  Soon  he  will  conclude  that,  to  save  himself  from  the 
punishment  in  the  future  world,  he  must  expose  all.  Let 
me  reflect.  Does  he  know  of  his  own  knowledge  that  I 
had  anything  to  do  with  the  murder  of  Francisco,  accept 
as  a  silent  witness  of  the  act  of  Vilani  by  his  servant 
Geno  ?  Does  he  know  that  I  induced  Geno  to  close  the 
career  of  Vilani }  He  thinks  it,  doubtless.  He  knows  that 
I  was  instrumental  in  that  affair  with  Iphi ;  but  that  can  be 
explained,  that  I  was  coerced  and  driven  into  that  by 
Vilani. 

"  He  will  not  be  likely  to  include  me  in  his  confession  of 
guilt,  only  upon  actual  facts  of  his  own  knowledge.  He 
will  not  expose  me  when  guilt  is  only  presumed. 

"  He  says,  '  It  is  for  you  I  fear.  I  am  not  concerned 
about  myself.' 

"  Can  it  be  that  he  knows  of  the  part  I  took  in  the  death 
of  Vilani  ?    It  must  be  su.     I  now  see  my  danger. 

"  J  must  have  some  one  to  consult  in  this  dilemma.  Let 
me  think  over  my  long  list  of  lovers,  and  admirers,  and 


T't"  ■  ■'' 


ALONZO, 


143 


see  who  I  can  best  trust.  It  must  be  one  who  is  wealthy, 
and  does  not  need  gold.  I  need  not  confess  my  guilt ;  I 
will  but  just  hint  to  have  Alonzo  arrested,  and  have  my 
name  disconnected  with  this  crime,  by  a  decree  of  the  law- 
tribunal.  I  can  trust  my  best  friend,  the  Marquis  De 
Vaubert.     I  will  get  him  to  proceed  in  the  matter." 

A  few  nights  after  this,  she  had  a  splendid  banquet  in 
the  palace  of  Vilani,  and  consulted  the  marquis  in  her  pri- 
vate reception-room. 

The  marquis,  with  his  keen  perception,  at  once  saw  the 
design  and  the  wish  of  the  lovely  countess. 

The  next  day  one  of  the  marquis*  willing,  suppliant 
tools,  charged  Alonzo  in  the  tribunal  of  justice  with  the 
murder  of  Francisco  Vilani.  He  was  arrested,  and  the 
day  of  trial  fixed  to  appear  and  answer  the  charge  of 
murder. 


k 


I 


144 


EXILES  OF  LOUISIANA. 


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;1    I 


BOOK    X. 

LOUISIANA. 
I. 

Captain  Ethan  Allen  Smith. 

Louisiana  at  one  time  belonged  to  France,  and  was 
settled  in  an  early  day  largely  by  French  emigrants.  The 
majority  of  the  population  of  New  Orleans,  in  the  fore- 
part of  the  present  century,  were  decidedly  French,  who 
possessed  that  business  tact,  energy  and  enterprise  of  the 
same  class  of  business  men  in  Paris. 

At  this  period,  there  was  in  New  Orleans  a  commission 
merchant  by  tiie  name  of  Pierre  Lavasse,  who  was  very 
prosperous  and  successful.  His  place  of  business  was 
where  most  of  the  commission  houses  were  situated,  on 
the  levee.     Pierre  was  a  Frenchman,  pure  and  unmixed. 

He  came  from  Marseilles,  and  was  exceedingly  proud 
of  his  grand  France,  and  the  fame  of  Napoleon.  He  was 
an  ardent,  wann  fiiend  in  the  cause  of  liberty,  and  his 
constant  wish  and  desire  was  that  France  should  have  a 
republican  government. 

When  he  heard  of  the  downfall  of  Napoleon,  and  that 
he  had  been  exiled  on  the  island  of  St.  Helena,  the  good, 
generous  Pierre  was  moved  to  tears. 

It  was  very  sad  and  mournful  for  him  thus  to  see  the 
grand  idol  of  his  earthly  adoration,  in  the  power  of  his 
ruthless  enemies. 

Pierre  was  wealthy,  notwithstanding  his  many  losses, 
for   he  had   a  weakness  in  never  refusing  to  endorse  the 


CAPTAIN  ETHAN  ALLEN  SMITH.        145 


S' 


paper  of  his  numerous  friends.  Every  time  Pierre  lost 
he  had  a  particular  oath.  "By  Jingo  !  I  never  sign  him 
again  !  "  But  Pierre  being  utterly  unable  to  say  no,  violat- 
ed that  oath  oftentimes.  From  the  kindness  of  his  feel- 
ings, he  still  signed,  still  paid,  and  would  still  swear.  "  liy 
Jingo  I  I  no  sign  him  again  —  sure  dis  time  !  "  It  never  was 
any  consideration  in  these  acts  of  kindness  that  he  expect- 
ed compensation,  and  yet  to  a  very  great  extent  he  was  re- 
warded, for  every  one  of  any  influence  seemed  to  be  inter- 
ested in  his  prosperity,  and  his  business  was  very  exten- 
sive and  profitable.  He  had  great  redeeming  traits  about 
him,  he  lived  plain,  substantial,  and  prudent. 

Pierre  had  one  friend  that  he  would  have  endorsed  with 
his  purse  and  life.  It  was  Ethan  Smith  a  Yankee  sea 
captain,  who  commanded  a  merchant  vessel  engaged  in 
trade  between  the  Mediterranean  ports  and  New  Orleans. 
His  vessel  was  named  The  Lafayette  of  New  Orleans. 
Captain  Smit,  as  Pierre  called  him,  was  the  counterpart 
of  Pierre.  He  was  continually  boasting  of  the  Yankee 
nation,  and  on  the  question  of  the  Rights  of  Man,  they 
were  in  perfect  accord,  and  many  a  jolly  bumper  did  they 
drink  together  to  the  success  and  prosperity  of  their  re- 
spective countries.  Captain  Smith  was  a  brave,  noble- 
hearted  Yankee  sailor,  and  always  on  the  side  of  the  help- 
less and  injured.  He  did  all  of  his  New  Orleans  business 
with  his  friend  Pierre,  and  had  done  so  for  years. 

Just  as  soon  as  Pierre  was  notified  of  the  arrival  of  the 
Lafayette,  he  was  on  board  to  welcome  his  friend.  Captain 
Smith. 

"Captain  Smit,  you  came  from  de  Meditteraneyon, 
ha?" 

"  Yes,  Pierre,  I  did ;  but  I  think  the  climate  will  be  too 


yp 


ill 


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nil 

! 


'P 


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146 


EXILES  OF  LOUISIANA. 


n  ^^M 


hot  to  return  with  a  merchant  vessel.  John  Bull,  has 
commenced  his  bad  tricks  on  American  sailors  ;  and  the 
States  will  bring  him  to  task  for  this  imiDudence,  and  take  a 
little  of  the  sea  pride  out  of  the  old  fellow,  I  am  thinking. 
When  the  Lafayette  goes  to  sea  again,  she  goes  armed, 
rierre.     How  are  the  exiles,  Pierre  ?  " 

"  Well,  and  hearty.  Captain  Smit ;  good  men  j  very  good 
men." 

"  All  safe,  Pierre  >  Mums  the  word.  You  say  they  are 
good  men." 

"  Yes  they  are  good  men.  They  are  the  best  metal  I 
ever  saw  put  up  in  human  shape.  They  are  iron,  and 
rock ;    and   true   as   steel." 

"  See  here,  Pierre.  If  I  had  some  iron  bull  dogs  on 
those  decks,  and  some  food  to  make  them  bark  and  bite, 
and  had  her  manned  with  such  men  mixed  a  little  with 
Green  Mountain,  damned  if  I  wouldn't  face  any  tw 
ships  John  Bull  could  float  on  the  seas.  If  war  does 
come  with  the  States  and  England,  the  Lafayette  sails 
into  the  fight.  I  have  money  enough  to  spare  to  make 
her  all  right.  All  I  will  ask  Congress  to  do,  is  to  give 
me  the  iron  barkers.  She  is  a  capital  sailor,  none  better 
on  the  ocean.  I  swear  by  the  gods,  the  Stars  and 
Stripes  shall  never  come  down  by  American  hands.  When 
the  flag  comes  down  it  goes  with  the  ship.  They  sink 
together." 

"  Ah,  Captain  Smit,  by  Jingo  I  know  you  never  surren- 
der." 

"  Not  much,  Pierre,  by  Moses.  I  have  some  of  the  best 
French  on  board,  Pierre.  It  is  fit  for  gods  and  heroes,  or 
men  with  big  souls ;  and  damned  if  that  don't  fit  you, 
Pierre.  We  will,  drink  on  this  our  first  meeting,  to  our 
first  loves,  the  Tri-Color,  and  the  Stars  and  Stripes." 


X 


.*•- 


CAPTAIN  ETHAN  ALLEN  SMJTIL        1 47 


"Yes,  Captain,  we  must  drink  to  that  sure." 

"Pierre,  Napoleon  is  still  uppermost  fighting  the  kings. 
He  is  knocking  them  old  thrones  in  Europe  like  foot  balls. 
He  will  bring  John  Bull  to  terms  before  he  finishes  up. 
He  has  the  best  army  ever  organized.  He  has  the  best 
marshals  that  ever  drew  blade.  He  must  let  the  States 
alone.  He  has  the  love  of  the  people  who  are  in  favor  of 
a  republican  government.  If  he  attempts  to  play  fast  and 
loose,  the  people  will  mistrust  his  democracy ;  and  besides 
that,  we  are  able  to  give  him  some  hard  blows  on  the  seas. 
He  must  hands  off,  on  the  Yankee  Nation.  By  Moses, 
he  must  hands  off. ' 

"Ah,  Captin*  Smit,  Napolyon  have  very  good  soldier, 
and  is  one  grand  general ;  but  see,  now,  he  never  fight 
wid  dis  country.  He  friend  to  dis  country.  Pierre  La- 
vasse,  don  wid  Napolyon  when  he  fight  dis  country ;  he 
will  whip  de  English  very  bad." 

Captain  Smith  said  to  Pierre :  "  I  like  the  English  well 
enough  in  their  place,  but,  by  Moses,  they  must  keep  their 
hands  ofl  these  States,  this  side  the  big  pond.  My  good 
old  father  was  born  in  England ;  but  I  say  this,  if  I  was 
to  tackle  an  English  man-of-war,  and  my  good  ol  1  father 
was  on  the  English  deck,  with  British  uniform,  and  under 
their  flag,  I  would  give  the  old  man  notice  to  go  below 
deck,  or  by  Moses,  he  would  get  hurt.  See  here  Pierre, 
my  name  is  Ethan  Allen  Smith.  My  good,  old  motlier 
was  a  kin  to  Ethan  Allen ;  and  she  was  just  like  him,  by 
Moses.  My  mother,  God  bless  her,  made  cartridges  in 
the  war  of  the  Revolution,  and  my  old  father  shot  'em, 
and  if  his  aim  was  as  good  on  a  red  coat  as  on  a  deer  in 
full  sweep,  the  red  coat  went  down,  by  Moses.  Did  I 
ever  tell  ye,  Pierre,  about  Ethan  Allen  and  old  Fort  Ti- 
conderoga?" 


t 


Hi 


t 


m 


^  '^^  if: 


-ill 


II 

■  i 
'  (i 


'i-i 


m 


148 


EXILES   OF  LOUISIANA. 


il 


"  Yes,  Captain  Smit ;  when  we  get  a  little  dry,  then  you 
tell  me  about  him,  and  see  now,  we  go  into  cabin,  take  a 
drink,  and  den,  Captain  Smit,  you  tell  him  again  sure." 

"Well  and  bravely,  Pierre." 

"  I  was  talking  of  Ethan  Allen.  He  was  solid  timber  — 
the  tall  pine  that  had  stood  the  storms  and  blasts  of  many 
Varmont  winters.  In  the  war  of  the  Revolution  he  got  to- 
gether some  Green  Mountain  boys  and  says  to  'em,  *  I  am 
going  to  yank  the  Britain s  out  of  old  Fort  Ticonderoga,  and 
if  you  brave  boys  will  follow  me  we  will  do  the  job  up  in 
quick  time.'  They  answered  him  with  a  shout.  They 
went  and  soon  they  scaled  the  fort,  and  took  possession. 
The  old  commander  of  the  fort  was  at  the  time  snugly 
housed,  thinking  there  was  no  danger  from  a  set  of  wild, 
raw  soldiers  from  the  Green  Mountains,  and  he  thought 
he  would  turn  over  and  tu.ke  his  morning  nap.  Ethan 
Allen  says,  *  I  believe  I  will  go  and  wake  up  the  old  gen- 
tlemen, and  inform  him  what  us  boys  have  been  doing.'" 

Captain  Smith's  voice  became  a  little  husky,  and  Pierre 
suggested  a  little  more  of  the  brandy,  so  they  took  a 
drink. 

"Well,  now,  Pierre,  the  balance  of  the  event  is  soon 
told.  He  went  to  the  entrance  of  this  inner  stronghold, 
and  struck  the  hilt  of  his  sword,  against  the  iron  bound 
door,  and  made  everything  tremble.  The  old  gentleman 
could  not  rest  under  such  a  noise  as  that.  He  came  to 
the  door  in  his  night-clothes,  with  a  lamp  in  his  hand,  and 
there  stood  the  tall,  strong,  and  rough  form  of  Etha.i 
Allen,  with  his  sword  in  hand.  '  Who  are  you,  and  what 
do  you  want  ? '  said  the  old  Britisher. 

*' '  I  want  you  to  surrender  this  fort ! ' 

*' '  To  whom,  and  in  whose  name,  am  I  to  surrender  this 
fort.>' 


CAPTAIN  ETHAN  ALLEN  SMITH. 


149 


"  *  I  demand  possession  of  this  fort  in  name  of  Jehovah, 
and  the  Continental  Congress  ! ' 

"Pierre,  by  Moses,  he  was  good  limber,  sure  as  you 
live  j  let's  take  a  drink." 

"  Captain  Smit,  he  was  one  grand  man,  sure ;  well,  by 
jingo,  we  take  a  drink." 

Captain  Ethan  Smith  was  a  good  representative  of 
Ethan  Allen,  according  to  the  description  of  that  remark- 
able personage.  He  was  physically  strong,  rough,  ruf^ged, 
brave,  generous  and  noble,  —  loved  liberty,  and  hated 
oppression. 

"  Captain  Smit,  I  wish  to  say  one  thing ;  my  business 
have  increase,  and  1  must  have  a  good  clerk,  here  on  ze 
levee,  and  in  ze  office  ;  what  you  say  to  dat  captain  ?  " 

"  You  want  a  good  clerk,  Pierre  ?  Do  you  want  a  man 
just  coming  into  prime  of  life  ?  A  good  penman  "i  Speaks 
French,  Italian,  Spanish,  and  English  ?  Has  been  several 
years  in  the  same  business  in  New  York  city  ?  Smart  as 
men  are  usually  made?  Far  more  honest,  (true,  and 
brave)  than  they  are  usually  made,  Pierre  1  A  man  who 
is  as  faithful  and  just  as  the  exiled  brothers,  Frank 
and  Claude  Harrold  ?  A  man  for  whose  worth  and  in- 
tegrity I  will  put  in  pledge  my  word  and  honor  ?  " 

"  My  God,  captain,  where  you  get  such  a  man  as  this 
what  you  speak  of  ?  Ha,  by  jingo,  it  is  better  zan  I  expects 
to  find ! " 

"  I  have  him  here,  right  on  this  ship  Lafayette." 

"  Where  you  get  him,  my  good  friend  ?  " 

"Direct  from  New  York,  I'ierre." 

Captain  Smith  rang  a  bell,  and  a  negro  boy  came  to  the 
cabin-door,  and  he  ordered  him  to  bring  Mr.  Convors  to 
the  cabin,  that  he  desired  to  introduce  him  to  a  friend. 

When  Mr.  Convors  appeared,  there  was  nothing  in  his 


\ 


t 


I 


r   I 


m  'm 


150 


EXILjulS  of  LOUISIANA. 


personal  appearance,  except  an  easy,  graceful  temper, 
showing  that  he  would  readily  adjust  himself  to  any  con- 
dition in  life,  to  which  duty  called  him,  that  would  strike 
the  observer  on  first  sight.  He  was  evidently  a  man 
that  would  wear  well,  and  this  Pierre  Lavasse  saw  at  once. 

"  Charley,"  said  Captain  Smith,  "  this  is  my  friend  Pierre 
Lavasse,  the  gentleman  I  have  spoken  to  you  about. 
Pierre,  this  is  Charles  Convors." 

Pierre  grasped  his  hand,  and  said,  "  Mr.  Convors  I 
want  you  for  a  clerk  in  my  counting-house,  and  on  this 
levee  ;  I  am  commission  merchant.  You  will  suit  me,  for 
Captain  Smit  says  so  j  and  he  never  makes  mistakes  in 
men,  by  jingo !  He  did  make  one  mistake,  when  he  fell 
in  with  Pierre  Lavasse." 

"  That  is  true,  Pierre,  by  Moses,  for  you  are  a  damned 
sight  better  than  I  supposed  you  were ;  now  let  us  take  a 
small  drink  on  that." 

"  Well,  just  as  you  say,  captain !  Will  Mr.  Convors 
join  us  ? " 

"  Excuse  me,  Mr.  Lavasse,  I  never  inv'ilge  in  the 
social  cup.  I  never  use  even  wine.  I  hope  you  will  not 
consider  me  unsocial.  I  refuse  because  I  think  it  is  better 
for  me,  and  better  for  my  friends,  for  I  can  perform  my 
duty  in  life  much  better  without  it." 

"  Excuse  you,  Mr.  Convors,  excuse  you,  ha,  by  jingo ! 
You  goes  ir.to  my  counting-house,  and  command  your 
ov/n  price.  See,  Mr.  Convors,  you  commence  this  day. 
You  marks  on  ze  ledger  the  amount  of  your  own  salary. 
Do  you  understand  me .-'  " 

"  Yes,  Mr.  Lavasse,  I  understand  3'ou  perfectly,  and  I 
am  under  great  obligations  to  you.  I  will  strive  to  do  my 
duty,  and   serve   you  to  the  best   of  my  ability;  and  as 


t'"'' '' 


CAPTAIN  ETHAN  ALLEN  SMITH. 


151 


to  salary,  I  will  accept  no  more  than  is  usual  for  such 
service." 

"  Pierre,  when  I  invited  you  to  drink,  I  did  not  include 
Charley.  He  never  touches  strong  drink.  Charley  you 
are  at  liberty  to  leave  us,  if  you  desire  to  do  so ;  perhaps 
you  would  like  to  take  a  ride  or  stroll  around  the  city." 

"Stay,  Mr.  Convors,"  said  Pierre.  "I  must  go  up  to  ze 
house,  and  get  things  ready  there  for  ze  reception  of  my 
friend,  Captain  Smit,  and  his  young  friend.  I  will  send 
carriage  down  for  you,  and  then  you  can  take  ride  around 
the  city,  do  you  see  ?  Mrs.  Lavasse,  and  my  daughters 
will  be  delighted  to  receive  vou  at  ze  mansion." 

On  their  parting,  it  was  understood  that  Captain  Smith 
and  his  young  friend  were  to  go  to  the  Lavasse  mansion, 
and  there  to  reuiain  until  it  suited  their  pleasure. 

That  night  Captain  Smith  and  his  friend  were  safely 
and  snugly  housed  in  the  good,  old,  comfortable  mansion 
of  the  Lavasse  family.  Mrs.  Lavasse  was  a  French  lady 
of  culture  and  refinement.  The  foundation  of  her  char- 
acter was  remarkable  good  sense,  and  all  of  her  actions 
were  the  prompting  of  charif  and  affection  for  every  one 
with  whom  she  was  connected.  When  her  husband  in- 
vited any  one  to  the  mansion,  she  treated  them  in  her 
kindest  manner,  with  marked  respect,  with  nit  ever  making 
an  enquiry  as  to  their  opinions  on  politics  or  religion,  or 
their  condition  in  life.  One  would  suppose  that  the 
rough,  blunt,  unpolished  sea  captain,  with  his  "by 
Moses,"  and  occasionally  a  little  stronger  expression, 
would  be  offensive  to  a  lady  of  refinement.  ]'at  i'  was 
not  so.  Pier  good  judgment,  clear  discernment  Lit  char- 
actei,  saw  at  a  glance  that  he  was  an  honest,  noble-hearted 
man.     And    she   knew  further  that   her   husbat.d   would 


(I    \, 


■'111 


^  m 


Wt 


m 


'f-'i 


iil  :|! 


■'■i!  : 


iMii 


'  .      ■     Hi    '     :■.•    -I 

.i:    mm 


152 


EXILES    OF  LOUISIANA, 


never  have  become  so  firmly  attached  to  him  as  a  friend, 
if  he  had  been  otherwise. 

She  was  a  Hving  example  of  the  fact  that  the  only  way 
to  secure  obedience  and  good  conduct,  from  the  servants 
or  slaves  in  her  household,  was  to  treat  them  with  the 
greatest  degree  of  kindness  possible.  She  was  neither  an 
advocate  for  slavery,  nor  was  she  in  favor  of  their  imme- 
diate, unprepared  emancipation.  This  was  her  argument  : 
He  who  loved  mankind  with  a  charity  that  was  infinite, 
commanded  us  to  be  charitable  and  merciful  to  all  man- 
kind. What  was  the  result  of  such  a  life?  It  drew 
towards  her  the  love  and  affection  of  all.  Her  happy 
home  was  full  of  glad  sunlight  and  joy.  It  went  forth 
into  the  world  to  cheer  the  hearts  of  others.  The  negro 
slave,  that  was  the  absolute  creature  of  her  will,  would 
have  died  for  her  willingly  and  freely. 

Mrs.  Lavasse  had  two  daughters  approaching  their 
"  teens,"  named  Eva  and  Carolina.  Eva  was  the  elder  of 
the  two,  and  they  were  both  examples  of  the  fact  that  kind 
treatment  of  the  child  gradually  and  gently  moulds  the 
young  heart  with  love,  truth  and  fidelity  towards  the  parent. 

Both  Pierre  and  Madame  Lavasse  had  been  raised  in 
the  Catholic  faith,  and  what  their  opinions  were  on  creed 
or  theology,  I  do  not  suppose  that  any  person  could  ever 
tell  from  their  intercourse  with  the  world,  but  there  were 
many  that  had  felt  the  joyful  influence  of  their  putting 
into  actual  practice  the  virtues  of  Christianity. 


THE  SACKS  OF  GOLD. 


•,4. 
■I 


BOOK  XI. 

ON  TRIAL  FOR  THE  MURDER  OF  FRANCISCO  VILA  NT. 

X. 
The  Sacks  of  Gold. 

We  are  back  at  Leghorn.  We  did  not  get  here  on 
board  of  the  good  ship  Lafayette,  saiUng  under  the  proud 
banner  of  the  Stars  and  Stripes,  under  the  protection  of 
the  brave,  gallant  Captain  Ethan  Allen  Smith.  We  are 
here  on  the  wings  of  thought  and  memory. 

Iphi  is  still  faithful  in  the  performance  of  duty,  still 
working  for  others  with  a  cheerful  heart.  The  days  of 
her  joyful  love  for  her  Jean,  and  sweet  friendship  for 
Louis,  cling  to  her  memory  like  a  beautiful  dream  that 
has  vanished,  and  left  with  her  a  memory  that  is  full  of 
melancholy  pleasure. 

Her  parents  are  still  living  in  the  dear  old  home  on  the 
hillside.  The  two  sacks  of  gold  delivered  to  them  by  that 
strange  man  are  still  to  them  a  profound  mystery.  Who 
was  he  ?  Whence  came  he  ?  Whither  did  he  go  when  he 
went  out  in  night  and  darkness  from  that  threshold .''  • 

Iphi  says  to  her  parents,  I  have  never  seen  that  man 
since.  Although  her  father  and  mother  had  lived  in,  cr 
near  Leghorn  for  many  years,  they  had  never  seen  that 
man  before  the  night  he  entered  their  humble  cottage. 

He  had  told  them  that  they  never  could  find  out  who  he 
was,  and  that  it  would  be  ut;eless  to  make  search  or  in- 


:^ 


III 


m 


Ijli 


rt 


Mrt 


154 


EXILES    OF  LOUISIAISiA. 


quiry.  There  was  no  effort  on  his  part  to  disguise  his 
face ;  his  dress  was  that  of  the  most  abject  poverty,  and 
they  naturally  concluded  that  it  was  assumed,  as  he  was 
evidently  in  possession  of  wealth  to  a  great  extent. 

Where  would  they  go  to  find  him.  Alonzo  l<new  noth- 
ing of  him.  Iphi  had  made  inquiry  of  him.  She  never 
again  saw  that  strange,  haggard  face,  so  full  of  sorrow 
and  sadness,  yet  so  truthful  and  earnest,  and  that  flashing 
eye  so  full  of  the  nervous  energy  of  frenzy  or  fanaticism. 

She  was  positive  that  if  she  again  saw  him,  she  would 
remember  him.  "  What  shall  we  do,  dear  father,  and  you, 
mother,  in  this  strange  affair  ?  "  asked  Iphi. 

"  Daughter,"  said  the  venerable  father,  "  we  will  not 
make  use  of  this  gold  at  present,  perhaps  something  will 
come  to  light  that  will  disclose  and  direct  us  in  our  duty. 
If  the  good  God  has  sent  this  man  to  us,  he  will  in  due 
time  lead  us  in  the  proper  course  to  pursue.  I  notice  that 
these  sacks  of  gold  have  been  hid  in  the  ground,  for  there 
are  marks  of  that  upon  them."  They  finally  set  them  in 
a  secret  place,  concluding  for  the  present  at  least  to  await 
events.  When  they  moved  it,  however,  there  was  a  paper 
closely  rolled  and  attached  to  one  of  the  strings.  They 
opened  it  and  it  contained  in  substance,  what  the  man  had 
said  to  them.  "This  gold  is  mine  ;  I  give  it  to  you;  in 
your  hands  it  will  be  blessed.  It  has  been  cursed  with 
crime  by  others.  In  your  hands  God  will  sanctify  it, 
bless  it,  and  thus  it  will  atone  for  the  evil  it  has  done  in 
the  world."  There  was  no  name  signed  to  this  note, 
nothing  to  reveal  the  mystery. 


% 


I 


TRIAL  OF  ALONZO, 


155 


11. 


The  morning  of  the  clay  set  for  the  trial  of  Alonzo  had 
arrived.  There  in  that  ancient  hall,  venerable  and  majestic 
with  age,  and  the  gloomy,  heavy  architecture  of  the  Tri- 
Ixmal  of  Justice,  sat  the  stern  judge,  with  the  power  to 
turn  the  scales  on  the  side  of  life  or  death. 

This  was  the  same  tribunal  through  which  Geno  had 
passed  on  his  way  to  the  grave.  It  had  the  same  awe- 
inspiring  authority.  Here  were  the  grim  attendants,  who 
executed  the  mandates  of  the  judge.  Here  the  one  who 
brought  the  prisoner  ironed  into  court,  from  his  gloomy 
cell.  Here  the  one  who  carried  him  to  the  place  of  exe- 
cution, and"  put  him  to  death. 

On  entering  the  vestibule  of  this  temple,  on  the  morn- 
ing of  the  trial  of  Alonzo,  there  sat,  on  one  of  the  stone 
steps  that  led  into  the  hall  of  justice,  a  strange-looking 
personage,  clad  in  the  garb  of  a  pilgrim.  His  long  staff 
and  scrip  lay  upon  the  mosaic  floor  at  his  feet.  It  was 
the  beg'^ar  we  saw  pass  out  of  the  Pisai  Gate,  and  that 
carried  the  two  bags  of  gold  to  Iphi, —  gave  them  to  her  in 
the  name  of  God,  to  be  held  in  trust  for  the  poor,  and  to 
be  used  in  charity  and  the  salvation  of  souls.  His  face 
had  the  same  haggard  and  mysterious  look.  He  repre- 
sented in  his  apparel  a  different  personage.  He  wore  a 
slouched  hat,  and  his  hair  fell  down  on  his  back  in  masses 
of  gray.  His  person  was  enrobed  in  a  long,  loose  robe, 
with  sandals  on  his  feet.  The  casual  observer,  would  not, 
perhaps,  have  recognized  him  as  the  same  person  ;  even 
Iphi  or  her  parents  would  not  have  known  him,  unless 
they  had  scrutinized   his  features  very  closely.     He  paid 


ill 


S! 


Mi    i    '3 


I'li 

f  "^l 

/  iiK 

i         fVw 

)  itpi 

'       "^  *  ' 

k| 

f:l1= 

'  ffM 

.  'J^l 

B!'; 

-;  :'*^ 

:k 

■    .! 

V 

^i 

i 

',  I. 

156 


EXILES  OF  LOUISIANA. 


no  attention  to  any  one  that  passed  in  or  out  of  the  hall 
of  justice. 

.  Alonzo,  led  by  the  officers  of  the  law,  with  chains  on 
his  limbs,  into  tliis  tribunal,  did  not  attract  from  him  the 
least  attention.  The  elegant  lady.  Countess  Vilani,  with 
her  attendants,  Joseph,  and  his  companions,  who  were  to 
testify  against  Alonzo,  passed  in,  and  yet  he  did  not  no- 
tice them.  His  eyes  were  intently  fixed  on  the  floor,  or 
looking  off  in  space,  meaningless  and  expressionless. 
Alonzo  stood  in  that  dismal  enclosure,  where  thousands  of 
miserable  humam  beings  had  stood  before,  to  listen  to  the 
decree  that  sent  them  to  the  grave.  No  eye,  save  the  eye 
of  the  Infinite,  could  measure  the  amount  of  human  agony 
and  suffering,  endured  in  that  little  enclosure,  during  the 
long  centuries  that  have  passed  over  this  ancient  edifice. 

Alonzo  still  maintained  that  stolid  indifference  to  his 
fate  that  he  had  all  the  time  manifested.  He  was  looked 
upon  by  the  court  and  bystanders  as  a  hardened  wretch, 
that  would  soon  meet  his  just  punishment. 

The  Potent  Seignior  was  all  courtesy  to  the  Countess 
De  Vilani,  who  sat  surrounded  by  her  maids  in  attendance. 
There  sat  Joseph,  who  was  now  released  from  his  contract 
to  steal  a  sack  of  gold,  to  make  good  the  loss  of  Geno. 
This  Potent  Court  had  annulled  that  contract  by  con- 
demning Geno  to  death. 

Joseph's  testimony  was  positive  and  direct,  that  Geno 
procured  the  poison  and  gave  it  to  Alonzo,  who  in  turn 
gave  it  to  the  deceased.  In  this  testimony  he  was  sus- 
tained by  one  or  two  old  servants  of  the  household,  who 
had  detected  the  same  thing. 

The  countess  assumed  an  air  of  deep  sorrow  and  regret 
over  the  sad  fate  of  her  dear  friend,  Alonzo,  as  she  called 


TRIAL  OF  ALONZO. 


'57 


him,  while  her  feelings  were  exultant  over  the  success  of 
her  plans  of  getting  rid  of  the  last  witness  of  her  crime 
and  shame.  She  was  a  little  disturbed,  over  the  apparent 
indifference  manifested  by  Alonzo,  when  his  conviction 
and  condemnation  was  so  certain  ;  but  she  concluded  he 
was  willing  to  die,  and  that  he  would  not  now  expose  her, 
cither  designedly,  or  through  religious  fanaticism. 

The  court,  with  a  solemn  voice  and  manner,  asked 
Alonzo  if  he  was  prepared  for  trial.  He  answered, 
meekly,  that  he  was. 

The  charge,  in  usual  form,  was  read  to  him,  and  in  sub- 
stance charged,  that  between  certain  days  and  year,  in 
the  Palace  of  Vilani,  he  had  put  to  death  Francisco  Vilani, 
then  Count  Vilani,  by  administering  to  him  poison,  and 
that  he  was  guilty  of  the  crime  of  murder. 

"The  court  then  asked  him  if  he  was  guilty,  or  not 
guilty  t 

Alonzo  replied,  *'I  am  not  guilty,  my  lord,  nor  is  any 
one  guilty  of  murder ;  for  Francisco  Vilani,  or  Count 
Vilani,  was  not  killed  or  murdered,  but  is  still  living,  and 
wilhin  tlie  sound  of  my  voice." 

"Wretched,  guilty  man,"  said  the  Seignior,  "  what  means 
this  folly?  The  procurator  has,  in  this  tribunal,  the  wit- 
nesses who  will  swear,  direct  and  positive,  that  he  was 
murdered  by  your  own  hands.  That  Geno  procured  you 
the  poison,  but  that  the  crime  was,  in  fact,  committed  by 
vou." 

"  Most  Potent  Seignior,  that  they  will  so  testify  is  true. 
They  are  honest  in  their  statements.  Geno  did  bring  me 
poison  to  take  the  life  of  Francisco  Vilani,  but  I  detected 
his  crime  and  intent,  and  saved  the  life  of  Francisco,  and 
at  this  moment  he  stands  in  the  presence  of  this  Tribunal 
of  Justice." 


1 1: 


m 


i*?i. 


U    ,ii. 


158 


EXILES  OF  LOUISIANA. 


All  eyes  were  turned,  and  there  in  the  centre  of  the 
hall,  stood  the  tall  form  of  the  pilgrim,  with  his  long  staff 
in  one  hand,  and  his  scrip  in  the  other,  looking  witli 
amazement  upon  the  majestic  form  of  the  Potent  Seignior, 
clothed  in  his  robes  of  office. 

"  Who  are  you  ?  "  demanded  the  judge,  in  a  stern  voice. 

"I  am  Francisco  Vilani,  who  died  to  the  world,  many 
years  ago." 

"  Do  you  claim  to  be  Count  Vilani  ?  " 

"  Titles  of  nobility,  are  but  vanities  of  earth.  If  I  deal 
justly  and  charitably  with  all  men,  God  cares  not  if  man 
calls  me  count  or  beggar.  I  would  have  begn  glad  to 
remain  unknown  to  the  world,  but  a  good  man  was  to 
suffer  death  for  destroying  my  life,  when  he  had  saved  it, 
and  thus  1  am  before  you. 

'*  The  Count  Vilani  whom  Geno  murdered  in  his  last 
hour,  called  on  man  to  pardon  him,  to  save  him,  to  pity 
him.  Had  he  called  on  God,  he  would  have  been  par- 
doned and  saved.  The  Lady  Verono  and  Joseph  know 
me  " 

The  court  called  on  Joseph  ;  he  being  the  witness  to 
testify  against  Alonzo,  declared  under  oath,  in  presence  of 
the  court,  that  this  was,  indeed,  the  Francisco  Vilani  who 
was  supposed  to  be  dead. 

The  countess  was  then  called  upon  to  state  her  knowl- 
edge of  this  personage.  She  arose,  and  in  a  clear,  dis- 
tinct voice,  said,  "  Potent  Seignior,  it  is  Francisco  Vilani." 

The  judge  then  stated  that  it  was  passing  strange  that 
this  man,  who  was  supposed  to  be  dead  for  many  years, 
should  be  produced  on  the  trial  of  a  man  accused  as  his 
murderer,  and  asked  Alonzo  why  he  did  not  state,  when 
he  was  arrested,  that  Francisco  Vilani  was  living. 


TRIAL  OF  ALONZO. 


159 


"Potent  Seignior,  it  is  thus:  If  I  iiad  so  stated,  still 
would  I  have  had  to  appear  in  this  tribunal  and  make  my 
detcnce  good  by  witnesses.  Francisco  desired  above  all 
things  to  remain  unknown.  Nothing  in  this  world  would 
have  induced  him  to  have  thus  acknowledged  his  identity, 
except  to  save  me  from  a  disgraceful  death.  It  is  one  of 
the  strange  features  of  his  insanity,  that  he  wants  the 
world  to  think  him  dead.  " 

"And  further,  my  lord,  I  wished  to  publicly,  in  open 
court,  forever  put  at  rest  the  slander  against  the  Countess 
Vilani  and  myself."  When  attention  was  thus  called  to 
the  countess,  there  was  observed  a  deathly  pallor  on  her 
cheeks,  that  spoke  of  intense  mental  anguish. 

The  court  intimated  to  Alonzo  that  he  might  proceed 
and  explain  the  extraordinary  result  of  this  trial,  and  how 
it  was  brought  about  that  he  had  saved  the  life  of  Fran- 
cisco. 

Alonzo  thus  proceeded :  "  Francisco  Vilani  lost  his 
parents  when  in  infancy.  The  only  relations  he  had  at 
the  time,  were  the  late  Count  Vilani,  Verono,  and  myself. 
He  was  considered  insane  in  his  boyhood,  and  kept  in 
close  continement,  and  treated  as  an  insane  person,  and 
did  not  possess  any  legal  existence.  He  was  Count 
Vilani  to  the  exclusion  of  every  other  claimant,  and  the 
owner  of  immense  wealth.  All  this  was  under  the  control 
and  management  of  the  late  count. 

"  In  the  course  of  time  it  was  concluded  to  remove  him 
to  the  palace,  and  place  him  under  my  care  and  manage- 
ment, where  there  was  a  private  communication  in  and 
out,  known  only  to  a  few  persons  besides  myself.  He 
had  been  under  my  care  but  a  short  time  when  I  dis- 
covered that  it  was  not  absolute  insanity,  but  an  extraor- 


i6o 


EXILES   OF  LOUISIANA. 


m 


a;  (    J 

in  1^^. 


ordinary  decree  of  eccentricity.  He  had  a  perfect  passion 
for  mingling  with  tiie  world  under  assumed  characters. 
For  instance,  he  would  clothe  himself  in  the  most  ragged 
apparel,  and  go  forth  and  beg  for  days ;  and  every  cent  he 
could  gather  he  would  carry  home  with  him.  The  next 
step  would  be  to  clothe  himself  in  citizen's  dress,  and  in 
the  characcer  of  a  gentleman  of  benevolence,  distribute 
this  money  among  objects  of  charity.  He  would  also,  at 
times,  go  forth  as  a  pedler,  selling  fruit,  toys,  and  works 
of  art,  and  use  the  proceeds  in  the  same  manner.  At 
times,  he  would  assume  the  dress  of  a  pilgrim,  as  at 
present,  and  distribute  money  among  the  poor  and 
destitute.  When  Alonzo  spoke  of  his  dress  as  a  pilgrim, 
he  induced  several  persons  to  look  toward  the  place  where 
the  pilgrim  stood,  but  he  was  not  to  be  seen,  he  had  dis- 
appeared as  quickly  and  suddenly  as  he  came." 

"What  has  become  of  Francisco  Vilani.?"  demanded 
the  court.  The  officers  made  search  for  him,  but  could 
not  find  him,  stating  that  he  had  been  taken  away  by  some 
person  in  a  carriage. 

Alonzo,  however,  proceeded  with  his  narrative,  "  He 
had  assumed  different  characters  that  he  did  not  recollect ; 
but  in  all  these  fancies,  and  eccentricities,  he  believed 
firmly  that  he  was  following  the  absolute,  and  unqualified 
command  of  God,  and  was  perfectly  harmless,  and  was 
really  good,  kind,  and  noble,  in  his  thoughts  and  actions. 
I  was  at  first  a  little  fearful  of  indulging  him  in  these 
wild  freaks,  but  I  found  out  that  it  improved  his  health, 
and  made  a  very  marked  improvement  on  his  mind ;  and 
I  also  concluded  that  his  being  confined  in  almost  a 
solitary  cell,  even  from  his  infancy  up  to  manhood,  had 
been  one  of  the  main  causes  of  the  unfortunate  man's  in- 


!iW; 


TRIAL  OF  ALONZO. 


i6i 


sanity.  He  had  never  been  allowed  to  have  any  com- 
munication with  his  fellow-beings.  I  found  that  when  he 
was  allowed  to  live  with  men,  and  was  at  liberty  to  act  for 
himself,  that  there  came  to  him  a  decided  and  marked  im- 
provement. 

"  I  reported  that  the  day  was  not  very  far  distant  when 
Francisco  would  recover,  and  would  be  considered  noth- 
ing more  than  a  very  eccentric  person,  but  far  from  being 
insane. 

"  After  some  time  had  elapsed,  Geno  brought  a  mixture, 
which  he  said  hafd  been  prescribed  for  him  by  a  very 
eminent  physician,  and  that  I  was  to  give  it  to  him  in 
certain  proportions.  I  did  so,  and  soon  found  out  that  he 
was  rapidly  failing  in  health,  and  if  not  soon  stopped, 
he  would  soon  be  in  his  grave. 

"  I  accused  Geno  of  the  crime,  and  told  him  I  had 
detected  him  in  his  purpose. 

"  This  was  stopped,  and  Francisco  recovered.  Soon  I 
detected  another  strange  change  in  his  appearance,  pro- 
duced by  the  food  brought  by  Geno.  On  one  occasion, 
when  this  effect  was  very  marked,  Geno  was  present.  I 
locked  the  door  on  him,  and  then  said  to  him,  — 

"  *  If  you  do  not  tell  me  now  what  this  means,  and  who 
is  engaged  with  you  in  this  accursed  plot  to  destroy  his 
life,  I  will  kill  you.'" 

Verono  heard  this  part  of  the  statement  of  Alonzo, 
with  terror  and  dismay.  She  said  to  herself,  "  He  will  yet 
betray  me.  He  is  now  the  master,  and  I  the  slave.  Fool 
that  I  was,  thus  to  put  in  motion  this  accursed  trial  that 
ends  in  my  own  ruin  and  downfall." 

Alonzo  proceeded :  "  Geno  confessed,  and  gave  me  the 
name  of  his  accomplice ;  and  a$  h^  suffered  on  earth  for 


% 

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A- »  S 

m 

lH; 

i   •'• 


162 


EXILES  OF  LOUISIANA. 


his  crime,  and  is  now  beyond  the  reach  of  all  earthly  tri- 
bunals, I  shall  not  mention  his  name. 

"  I  told  Geno  I  would  spare  him  if  he  would  assist  me 
to  make  the  world  believe  that  Francisco  was  dead.  He 
promised.  I  knew  that  fear  of  his  accomplice  on  one  side, 
and  fear  of  me  on  the  other,  would  keep  him  silent. 

"  I  purchased  a  comfortable  residence  in  a  very  retired 
place  outside  the  city,  and  procured  the  assistance  of  a 
firm,  and  a  reliable  friend,  to  take  charge  of  the  house  and 
Francisco. 

"  I  told  Francisco  about  all  I  had  done.  He  under- 
stood the  situation  well,  and  it  pleased  him  ;  for  he  said  he 
did  not  want  the  world  to  know  him  as  Francisco  Vilani, 
but  a  servant  of  God,  looking  after  the  poor  and  mis- 
erable. 

"  Geno,  myself,  and  my  friend,  placed  him  in  a  coffin, 
and  had  him  carried  out  of  the  palace  to  the  house  I  had 
procured  for  his  reception.  The  empty  coffin  was  fixed  in 
such  a  manner  as  to  be  easily  taken  to  the  cemetery  and 
interred  Vvluiout  any  danger  of  detection. 

"  He  remained  in  charge  of  his  attendant  without  any 
danger  of  being  recognized ;  for  there  are  but  a  very  few 
persons  in  the  palace  that  had  ever  seen  him  to  know  him 
as  Francisco  Vilani.  While  in  and  around  Leghorn,  iheic 
were  none  that  had  ever  seen  him  as  that  person.  He 
often  visited  my  apartments  in  the  palace  disguised  as 
a  monk,  pilgrim,  or  pedler.  He  was,  as  he  said,  in  the 
palace  on  the  night  that  Geno  murdered  Vilani,  and  gave 
as  a  reason  for  not  interfering  in  the  behalf  of  Courit 
Vilani,  that  God  was  using  Geno  as  an  instrument  of 
divine  justice,  and  that  he,  Geno,  would  soon  fall  in  the 
same  manner  by  violence." 


:| 


fii^- 


TRIAL  OF  ALONZO. 


163 


(The  Countess  Vilani  had  her  face  veiled.  Her  soul 
was  writhing  in  agony  and  despair.) 

Alonzo  continued :  "  Francisco  regretted  very  much 
that  he  was  now  compelled  to  go  before  a  court  and 
be  identified  as  Count  Francisco  Vilani;  that  he  would 
prefer  to  have  the  world  say,  Francisco  is  dead.  But  he 
very  readily  understood  that  the  testimony  was  sufficient 
to  convict  me  of  his  murder,  and  then  he  said  if  he  thus 
allowed  me  to  suffer  a  disgraceful  death  as  his  murderer, 
when  I  was  his  good  friend,  and  saved  his  life,  that  God 
would  cast  him  out  from  his  presence  forever. 

"  I,  myself  regretted  this  on  his  account,  for  I  have  dis- 
covere'd  that  the  more  his  wishes  are  gratified  and  he  has 
perfect  liberty  of  action,  the  more  reason  he  has.  Me 
never  seems  to  have  any  desire  whatever  to  injure  any  one. 
He  is  insane  on  the  wish  and  desire  to  help  every  one. 

"His  attendant,  Calvetti,  has  been  very  faithful  and  kind 
to  him,  and  has  been  able,  having  plenty  of  means  fur- 
nished him  through  myself,  to  humor  him  in  all  his  excur- 
sions, always  being  near  him  and  watcliing  him  without  his 
knowing  it.  They  often,  however,  drove  around  the  coun- 
try, Francisco  being  dressed  in  such  a  manner  as  would  be 
consistent  with  his  being  in  a  carriage.  He  was  often 
told  that  his  face  resembled  a  b  :ggar  or  pilgrim,  or  monk, 
or  pedler,  that  had  but  a  short  time  since  passed  that 
way,  but  that  did  not  annoy  him  much  ;  he  paid  no  particu- 
lar attention  to  such  remarks.  As  long  as  he  was  not 
known  as  Francisco  Vilani,  he  cared  nothing  about  U."     . 

This  strange  recital  of  Alonzo,  almost  paralyzed  the 
countess  with  horror.  Francisco  was  alive.  Had  been 
present  at  the  murder  of  Vilani,  concealed  behind  the 
tapestry  of  the  apartment.     Had  just  stated  that  if  Count 


ft  I 


M 


-II  <l 
•II  il 


!!» 


m 


164 


EXILES  OE  LOUISIANA. 


Vilani  had  asked  God  to  pardon  him  and  have  mercy 
upon  him,  instead  of  man,  his  prayer  would  have  been 
granted.  She  had  been  the  Cviuse  of  this  accusation,  in 
order  to  have  Alonzo  put  to  death  to  screen  herself  against 
punishment  for  crime,  and  it  resulted  in  bringing  to  life 
the  real  Count  Vilani,  the  actual  owner  of  all  this  vast 
wealth.  Alonzo  was  more  than  vindicated,  and  had  all 
the  time  been  her  true  and  only  friend,  and  had  been 
shielding  both  her  and  the  late  Count  Vilani  from  just 
punishment.  He  knew,  of  course,  that  she  was  connected 
with  the  attempt  to  poison  Francisco.  He  knew  that  she 
had  compelled  Geno  to  murder  Vilani. 

Where,  now,  Verono,  is  thy  ])ride,  courage,  and'  ambi- 
tion, to  turn  aside  the  decree  that  condennis  every  human 
soul  who  dehcs  the  inexorable  law  of  justice.''  Where, 
now,  thy  lordly  palace,  shining  in  splendor,  filled  with  lux- 
ury, ease,  and  grandeur?  It  has  passed  away  like  a 
dream,  and  the  place  of  execution,  with  all  the  ghastly 
horrors  of  a  disgraceful  death,  is  there  instead.  The  gay 
crowd  of  fashionable  flatterers  and  sycophanl:-.  that  were 
wont  to  gather  around  thee  with  smiles  and  false  praise  is 
changed  into  a  low,  \  ulgar  crowd  of  howling  demons,  who 
mock  you,  and  jibe  you  in  your  agony,  while  suffering  the 
])angs  of  a  disgraceful  death.  How  sad  to  think,  that  you 
may  stand  where  (icno  stood,  and  die  where  Geno  died. 

In  iliis  (lark  hour  of  her  fate,  she  thought  of  Iphi,  so 
truthful,  nolilc,  ;ni(l  good.  She  remembered  when  she 
said  to  her,  your  faith  in  God  is  a  myth,  and  like  the  wor- 
ship of  isis  and  Jupiter,  will  pass  away  like  a  dream.  She 
remembered,  too,  lliat  Iphi  said,  that  the  faith,  hope,  and 
charitv  that  came  to  the  world  through  Jesus  and  the 
prophets  of  old,  would  exist  as  long  as  there  was  a  human 
soul  to.  love,  to  forgiv  \  and  pity  fallen  man. 


!*?1 


''f  '.,■ ; 


/  TOLD   YOU  SO. 


165 


Verono,  so  cruel-hearted,  could  no  longer  endure  this 
mental  anguish  ;  she  wept.  She  moaned  so  pitifully,  that 
the  stern  judge  and  the  grave  executioner  could  not  re- 
strain their  tears. 

Alonzo  is  discharged,  Verono  is  taken  away  by  her 
attendants.  The  pilgrim  has  disappeared,  and  this  mel- 
ancholy scene  is  closed. 


Ill 
% 


III. 

I  Told  You  So. 

The  gossips  on  the  streets  of  Leghorn  never  had  so 
rich  a  theme  of  exquisite  relish,  as  the  facts  developed  in 
the  trial  of  Alonzo  for  the  murder  of  Francisco.  The 
most  of  the  wise  ones  knew  all  this  years  ago,  and  said, 
have  I  not  oft  told  you  so. 

First  Citizen.  —  Tush  man  ;  I  have  often  told  thee,  Fran- 
cisco was  not  dead,  but  was  wandering  around  in  the  dif- 
ferent characters  so  well  explained  by  the  good  Alonzo. 
Ye  have  no  memory  to  keep  what  is  told  thee. 

Second  Citizen.  —  Well,  well !  I  will  swear  that  never  to 
this  moment,  have  I  heard  it  so  stated. 

First  Citizen. — Tush  man  ;  thou  art  dull  of  mind,  and 
also  of  discernment.  Thus  it  was  given  out,  that  l'"ran- 
cisco  was  insane  and  dead  in  law;  nnd  the  dull,  simple 
fools  took  the  legal  fiction  for  the  fact,  and  said,  therefore, 
Francisco  was  dead,  and  soon  the  shallow  pates  had  him 
murdered.  Tush  niiin,  thou  art  duU  of  comprehension, 
and  must  hereafter  mind  what  is  tok'  thee. 

Second  Citizen.  —  Well  !  well  !     I  have  nothing  more  to 


i66 


EXILES   OE  LOUISIANA. 


IV       w 


I  \: 


'1     > 


» 


If 


say,  except,  I  have  seen  this  strange-looking  beggar,  and 
often  times,  for  jDity  sake,  gave  him  charity,  and  1  have 
have  often  times  seen  the  same  strange  face  in  hermit 
garb,  with  staff  and  scrip,  and  the  same  as  pedler,  deal- 
ing in  pictures  and  toys  and  trinkets,  and  yet  I  did  not 
think  the  one  man  represented  all  these  characters,  and 
never  did  I  dream  of  its  being  Francisco  Vilani. 

First  Citizen.  —  Tush  man,  it  comes  from  a  want  of  dis- 
cernment ;  thou  art  stupid.  To  me  it  was  all  plain  that 
it  was  Francisco  Vilani. 

Second  Citizen.  —  Well !  well !  How  is  it  they  say  that 
the  lady.  Countess  Vilani,  is  just  as  guilty  as  any  one, 
and  that  in  the  tribunal  she  was  struck  with  conscious 
guilt ;  what  sayest  thou  "i 

First  Citizen.  —  Tush  man  ;  what  folly ;  surely  thou  art 
insane.  Wept  with  conscious  guilt  ?  She  but  wept  with 
joy, — kind-hearted  countess, —  in  thus  seeing  her  kinsman 
alive,  after  years  of  mourning  for  his  death.  You  must 
live  with  the  nobility  to  learn  their  ways.  I  served  for 
many  years  as  serving-man  to  an  honorable  marquis,  and 
I  thus  learnt  these  things. 

Second  Citizen.  — Well,  I  see  thou  art  well  learnt  in  these 
things.  I  did  but  tell  thee  what  others  said.  Tell  me 
this,  why  did  Geno  kill  the  Count  Vilani?  and  why  did 
not  the  countess  call  for  help,  instead  of  lleeing  to  her 
chamber,  while  Geno  was  murdering  the  count? 

First  Citizen.  —  Tush;  what  foolish  questions  thou  dost 
propound.  Geno  had  his  accomplices  in  the  palace  to  rob 
and  plunder.  The  count  was  about  to  kill  the  wolf,  and 
he  turned  upon  him,  and  with  the  aid  of  his  companions, 
he  killed  the  count  to  save  his  own  life.     Dost  see  into  it  ? 

Second  Citizen,  —  It  looks  that  way,  indeed  it  does. 


/  roLD  YOU  so. 


167 


First  Citizen.  —  Your  other  question  is  answered  easier 
still.  Dost  think  a  countess  has  a  voice  like  a  milkmaid  ? 
She  fainted  and  fell  with  terror  at  the  dreadful  sight,  was 
carried  to  her  chamber  senseless  by  her  waiting  maids. 
Dost  see  it  now  ? 

Second  Citizen.  —  Well,  thou  art  very  sensible  about  these 
things.  It  is  a  good  school,  to  live  with  the  nobility  and 
learn  their  ways.  They  say  that  Alonzo  was  a  cunning 
knave  to  keep  Francisco  travelling  around  as  beggar,  ped- 
ler,  and  pilgrim,  while  he  used  Francisco's  gold  to  live  at 
ease  and  have  all  these  fine  livings  to  himself ;  how  is  it  .-* 

First  Citizen.  —  Tush  man ;  hadst  better  keep  a  silent 
tongue  on  such  matters,  or  it  may  fare  ill  with  thee.  Dost 
know  the  danger  of  thy  slander  of  these  people  ?  If  you 
do  not,  I  give  you  heed  to  keep  a  silent  tongue.  Mind 
me. 

Sccoftd  Citizen.  —  I  thank  thee  for  the  warning,  for  there 
may  be  danger  in  thus  speaking  of  great  folks.  I  think 
so,  indeed,  since  you  have  told  me  of  it,  and  will  look  to 
it.  But  how  is  it,  they  say  that  the  countess  was  acting 
with  Count  Vilani,  in  that  shameful  act  in  beguiling  the 
innocent,  beautiful  Iphi  into  the  palace,  to  drag  her  to 
ruin  and  destruction.     How  is  that,  neighbor  ? 

First  Citizen.  —  Thou  art  at  it  again ;  tush  man ;  why 
wilst  give  utterance  to  these  idle  gossips  on  the  street, 
and  say  they  say.  Thou  art  a  fool ;  ye  hove  no  discern- 
ment ;  dost  not  see  it  ?  It  was  all  a  piece  of  pleasantry, 
like  an  act  upon  the  stage  in  the  theatre,  for  the  noble 
countess  to  amuse  herself  in  the  dull  hours  of  palace  life ; 
hast  no  sense  left .''  Good-day,  good-day  !  I  no  longer  wish 
to  talk  to  babbling  fools  such  as  ye. 

Second  Citizen.  —  Good-day.  Excuse  me.  I  did  but  ask 
of  one  who  well  knew  all  these  things.     Good-day. 


U 


h.fi 


if;       H 

y 


:iftv"^- 


168 


ii     \-i 


EXILES    OF  LOUISIANA. 


Citizen  Giulia  (meeting  second  citizen). —  Good-day,  Ig- 
nati ;  hast  heard  the  strange  news  ?  Francisco  Vilani  was 
not  murdered  but  the  noble  Alonzo  has  saved  him,  and 
yesterday,  in  the  tribunal  of  justice,  in  defence  of  the  charge 
of  murder,  he  produced  the  living  body  of  the  supposed 
murdered  Francisco. 

Second  Citizen  (Whose  name  appears  to  be  Ignati). — 
It  is  not  strange  to  me,  Giulia,  for  I  have  known  it 
these  many  years.  Gabuzzi,  the  grocer,  has  oft  told  me 
that  Francisco  was  still  alive,  and  wandering  about  the 
country  as  pedler,  monk,  beggar,  and  pilgrim.  You  see, 
Gabuzzi  has  served  amongst  the  nobility,  and  knows  their 
ways  quite  well,  and  can  tell  it  quite  glibly,  you  see ;  and 
I  have  been  true  and  kept  the  secret  well. 

Ginlin.  —  What !  Ignati  has  received  this  news  from 
Gabuzzi  the  grocer,  who  sells  to  the  palace  of  Vilani,  for 
the  servants  of  the  palace,  spoiled  groceries  and  tainted 
meats,  and  at  double  price  ?  Gabuzzi  art  a  vain,  babbling 
fool ;   heed  him  not. 

Ignati.  —  Thou  art  very  sensible ;  Giulia,  I  will  think 
of  this ;  perhaps  the  cunning  Gabuzzi,  is  but  playing 
smart  with  me. 

Giulia.  —  Heed  not  such  babbling  boasters.  Ignati,  I 
will  tell  you  of  this  man.  When  Geno  was  alive,  Geno 
was,  with  Gabuzzi,  the  perfection  of  honesty.  When 
Geno  was  forsaken  to  his  fate  by  the  countess,  he  was  the 
murderer  of  Francisco  as  well  as  of  the  count.  When  the 
Lady  Verono,  as  it  was  whispered  around  the  streets,  was 
connected  with  these  crimes  in  the  palace,  Gabuzzi  was 
among  the  first  to  charge  Alonzo  as  being  the  accomplice 
of  Geno  in  the  murder  of  Francisco.  Thus  it  is,  Ignati, 
wherever  the  Countess  Vilani  has  cast  her  gold  you  will 


I* 


THE  INSANE  COUNT. 


169 


find  many  such  as  Gabuzzi  to  swear  that  she  is  all  perfec- 
tion.    Good-day,  Ignati. 

Ignati.  —  Good-day,  Giulia.  Thou  art  truly  sensible  and 
wise.  1  will  think  of  this,  and  will  not  listen  to  such  as 
Gabuzzi.     Now  I  have  said  to  Gabuzzi,  thou  art  smart  and 

wise ;  also  have  I  said  to  Giulia,  thou  art  sensible  and  wise  • 

> 

and  both  have  told  me  different  tales  of  the  palace  folks. 
If  they  are  wise,  then  I,  Ignati,  must  be  a  fool.  Well,  well, 
I  will  think  of  this. 


IV. 


The  Insane  Count. 


m 


ft 


t 


Shortly  after  the  hermit  was  missed  from  the  hall  of 
the  tribunal,  a  chaise  passed  out  of  the  Pisan  gate.  It 
contained  two  persons,  and  took  about  the  same  direction 
the  beggar  followed  when  he  searched  for  the  two  sacks 
of  gold  in  the  old  ruins.  It  proceeded  to  the  cottage  on 
the  hillside  Where  Iphi  and  her  parents  dwelt. 

I  phi  and  her  parents  were  sitting  in  the  cottage,  talking 
of  the  sad  fate  of  Paul,  Louis,  and  Jean ;  of  the  terrible 
death  of  Vilani,  and  of  the  ordeal  through  which  Iphi 
herself  had  passed.  They  had  heard  of  the  arrest  of 
Alonzo  for  the  murder  of  Francisco,  but  knew  nothing  of 
the  trial  and  what  its  probable  result  would  be. 

A  stranger  came  to  the  door  who  they  supposed  was  a 
nobleman,  who  wished  to  purchase  some  flowers.  The 
chaise  stood  at  the  gate  and  the  driver  still  sat  in  his  seat. 

There  was  something  about  the  face  of  the  stranger 
that  startled  them  all  very  much;  for  it  had  the  same 
strange,  haggard,  vacant  gaze  that  marked  the  beggar  who 


\ 


i;l 


i 


t 


i 


s 


1 

m 

1 

w 

i 

Ml 

;-S 

H 

170 


EXILES    OF  LOUISIANA. 


left  with  them  the  two  sacks  of  gold.    But  that  was  hardly* 
possible.     The  beggar  was  far  in  advance  in  years  of  this 
gentleman. 

He  wanted  some  flowers,  and  Iphi  was  to  select  them 
for  him  to  suit  her  own  taste,  while  he  seated  himself  in 
the  cottage  and  soon  fell  into  a  reverie  with  his  eyes  fixed 
upon  the  floor,  raising  his  head  occasionally  and  looking 
oif  into  vacancy. 

Iphi  and  her  parents  had  noticed  this  strange  peculiarity 
in  the  beggar.  Yet  they  feared  to  say  so,  for  they  were 
not  certain  of  his  identity.  The  flowers  were  selected 
with  great  care,  and  at  his  request  were  placed  in  the 
chaise. 

Iphi  returned  to  the  cottage,  and  the  stranger  still  sat 
there  in  meditative  silence.     At  length  he  said  : 

"  Maiden,  here  is  thy  pay,"  handing  her  a  gold  piece. 

She  attempted  to  hand  him  the  change  but  he  said,  — 

"  Keep  it ;  and  if  you  need  it  not,  give  it  to  the  poor.  I 
come  to  this  humble  abode  to  ask  for  favors  far  more 
precious  than  all  the  gold  on  earth.  I  come  to  this  cot- 
tage to  ask  of  one  whose  soul  is  in  accord  with  Jesus,  to 
save  a  human  soul  that  is  about  to  be  lost.  I  was  led  here 
by  the  star  of  Bethlehem.  It  was  such  a  place  where 
Jesus  loved  to  rest  from  his  toil  —  where  humility  and 
virtue  were  so  eloquent  in  the  sublime  praise  of  the  In- 
finite." The  tones  of  his  voice,  and  the  earnest,  impres- 
sive manner,  were  the  same  as  the  beggar's. 

Iphi  had  now  resolved  to  ask  him  some  questions,  with 
regard  to  the  two  sacks  of  gold,  that  had  been  left  with 
them  so  mysteriously. 

He  appeared  to  anticipate  her,  and  quickly  said^ 
"  Maiden,  ask  me  nothing  of  the  past,  my  face  is  turned  to 


KM 


WHERE  THE  GOLD  CAME  FROAf.        171 

the  future.  I  have  a  favor  to  ask  of  thee,  which  is  beyond 
all  earthly  consideration.  Listen !  in  the  palace  of  Vilani, 
there  is  the  Lady  Verono,  Countess  of  Vilani.  Cruelly 
she  meditated  a  deep  wrong  upon  you.  I  knew  it  all,  and 
was  ready  to  save  if  others  had  failed.  God  would  not 
have  allowed  the  accursed  wrong  to  have  gone  unpunished. 
The  time  has  come,  when  mercy  pleads  for  her.  For  now 
she  is  suffering  the  torments  of  the  lost.  I  have  compas- 
sion on  her.  I  want  you  to  ask  God  to  pity  and  forgive. 
I  heard  her  moans,  and  I  thought  a  human  soul  had  fallen 
into  the  abyss." 

Iphi  and  her  parents  were  moved  to  tears,  at  the  sad 
fate  that  had  fallen  on  the  Lady  Verono.  They  knew 
nothing  of  the  cause  of  this  strange  statement  of  her  con- 
dition, but  the  deep,  earnest,  and  impressive  manner  of 
this  mysterious  person,  had  deeply  moved  their  pity  and 
compassion. 

He  arose  from  his  position,  and  earnestly  asked  a 
blessing  on  this  household  ;  got  into  the  chaise,  and  was 
driven  out  into  the  country,  away  from  the  busy  city. 


'J 


V. 

Where  the  Gold  came  From. 

The  day  following  this  event,  Iphi,  while  in  the  city 
performing  her  regular  duties,  in  furnishing  her  customers 
with  flowers  and  fruits,  had  gathered  enough  to  learn 
that  the  condition  of  the  Countess  Vilani,  was  deplorable. 
She  heard,  also,  the  result  of  the  trial  of  Alonzo,  and 
that  Francisco  Vilani  was  still  alive,  and  that  he  had  been 
in  the  habit  of  appearing  in  the  character  of  beggar  and 


1'.^ 


H 


I 


T72 


EXILES  OF  LOUISIANA. 


hermit.  She  saw  at  once,  then,  that  the  sacks  of  gold  left 
with  her,  were  left  by  Francisco  Vilani,  thus  disguised  as  a 
beggar,  and,  that  he  it  was  who  had  on  the  previous  day 
bought  flowers  of  her.  She  had  also  heard  the  part  that 
Alonzo  had  taken  in  preserving  the  life  of  Francisco,  and 
had  kept  him  concealed,  and  away  from  the  power  and  in- 
fluence of  the  late  Count  Vilani. 

She  now  concluded,  further,  that  Alonzo  had  been 
instrumental  in  her  being  released  from  the  power  of 
Count  Vilani,  and  it  further  explained  to  her  what  Louis 
Dejon  had  said  to  her  before  his  execution,  that  he  could 
not  explain  anything  that  took  place  at  the  palace,  on  the 
night  he  had  entered  it  for  the  purpose  of  her  release,  as 
all  that  had  been  done  and  said  was  under  the  solemn 
sanction  of  an  oath.  Seeing  now  the  whole  matter, 
she  concluded  to  go  to  the  palace,  and  tell  Alonzo  of  the 
two  sacks  of  gold  that  had  been  left  with  her,  and 
describe  the  person  who  left  them,  and  also  to  state  that 
she  believed  the  person  to  be  Francisco  Vilani.  When 
Iphi  returned  to  the  cottage,  and  related  these  strange 
events  to  her  parents,  they  were  much  astonished,  and  ex- 
pressed great  sympathy  for  the  unfortunate  Lady  Countess. 
Iphi  explained  to  them  her  intentions  of  going  to  Alonzo, 
and  getting  instruction  what  to  do  with  this  gold  in  their 
possession,  and  they  approved  of  the  wisdom  of  her 
course. 

Accordingly,  she  went  to  the  palace,  and  had  an  inter- 
view with  Alonzo.  He  was  sad  and  mournful,  over  the 
events  that  had  just  passed,  saying  to  Iphi  that  the 
Countess  Vilani  was  delirious.  That  she  had  several 
times  sought  to  take  her  life  with  poison,  and  it  required 
constant  watching  to  restrain  her  from  self-destruction. 


WHERE  THE  GOLD  CAME  FROM.        173 


Iphi  wept,  and  mentally  prayed  for  the  recovery  of  the 
unfortunate  lady,  Alonzo  was  moved  with  the  charity  Of 
this  girl,  and  said  to  her  :  "  Noble  maiden  !  Thou  art  an 
honor  to  humanity,  thus  eVen  to  love  and  forgive  thy 
worst  enemies."  Iphi  answered  him  by  saying  she  could 
jasily  forgive,  for  she  never  had  hated  any  human  being. 
She  then  explained  to  Alonzo,  the  event  of  the  beggar 
leaving  with  her  two  sacks  of  gold,  and  that  since  that  a 
person  dressed  in  citizens  dress,  l.ad  come  to  the  cottage 
and  requested  her  to  pray  for  the  Lady  Countess,  and  de- 
scribed ai.  exactly  as  possible  the  face  and  manner  of  the 
beggar,  and  the  strange  gentleman. 

Alonzo  then  explained  to  her  the  history  of  the  two 
sacks  of  gold,  that  Louis  had  taken  them,  at  his  request, 
to  avoid  any  suspicion  from  Geno  of  his  real  motives 
in  entering  the  palace  on  that  night ;  that  Louis  had 
concealed  the  money  the  next  day  in  the  old  ruins 
whence  Francisco  had  taken  it,  and  carried  it  to  the  cot- 
tage of  Iphi. 

From  some  cause,  Geno  did  not  get  to  see  I.ouis,  so  as 
to  claim  from  him  the  money  and  the  keys  of  the  postern 
gate,  and  seemed  to  rest  on  the  good  faith  of  Louis 
to  make  it  all  right  with  him.  On  the  day  following, 
Geno  was  arrested  for  the  murder  of  Viiani,  and  Louis 
was  with  his  regiment  confined  in  the  garrison,  but  found 
some  means  to  communicate  to  Alonzo  the  place  where 
he  had  concealed  the  money,  so  that  he  could  at  any  time 
recover  it.  Alonzo  explained  this  whole  transaction  to 
Francisco,  who  at  once  determined  that  Iphi  should  have 
that  gold,  to  do  with  it  as  she  deemed  best,  and  that  it  w  as 
the  will  of  God  that  he  should  use  lai  gold  in  this  way, 
so  that  it  might  atone  for  the  curse  it  had  brought  on 
others. 


J 

\ 

1  ! 

' 

1 

i 

\  li 


;  i 


I. 


^ 


'74 


EXILES  OF  LOUISIANA, 


Alonzo  then  told  her  that  the  money  was  the  actual 
property  of  P'rancisco  ;  that  he  had  the  undoubted  right  to 
give  it  to  whom  he  pleased  ;  that  it  was  now  her  property 
honestly,  justly,  and  fairly,  and  to  do  with  it  just  as 
she  deemed  proper  and  best.  That  Francisco  Vilani 
would  never  take  it  back,  nor  would  he  ever  allow  her  to 
question  him  on  the  subject ;  and  that  her  mind  might  be 
at  rest,  that  he  knew  the  money :  he  said  one  sack  was 
fastened  with  thin  wire,  while  the  other  was  tied  with 
a  string. 

Iphi  was  bewildered  with  the  statement  of  Alonzo. 
She  was  as  much  at  loss  now  how  to  act,  or  what  to 
do  with  so  much  money,  as  she  was  before  perplexed 
about  the  thought  that  there  was  some  evil  design  in  thus 
bestowing  upon  her  so  much  wealth  gratuitously.  But 
time  and  her  natural  good  sense  made  this  gold  atone  for 
the  evil  it  had  done  in  tempting  others  to  the  commission 
of  crime. 


vr. 

Remorse. 


Weeks  and  months  passed  away,  and  Verono  was  still 
confined  to  her  chamber.  She  required  ceaseless  care 
and  attention  by  her  attendants.  Often  in  her  wild 
delirium,  would  she  call  upon  the  innocent  Iphi  to  save 
her,  to  pity  her,  and  pardon  the  evil  she  had  done  her. 
When  these  wild  paroxysms  of  frenzy  would  pass  away, 
she  would  fall  into  a  condition  of  perfect  stupor,  from 
which  nothing  could  arouse  her  to  conscious  existence. 
She  had  the  besi  medical  attendants,  but  nothing  could 


1 , 


REMORSE. 


175 


be  clone  for  the  unfortunate.  A  year  passed  awaj-,  and 
no  change ;  except  an  increased  physical  prostration. 
There  was  this  marked  trait  in  her  condition,  and  Alonzo 
knew  well  the  cause,  that  when  she  did  to  some  extent  re- 
cover her  reason,  her  mind  was  so  full  of  appalling  re- 
flections, that  life  was  to  her  a  burden,  and  she  wished  to 
die.  For  this  reason  Alonzo  wanted  to  save  her  life, 
believing  she  might  yet  be  restored  to  happiness.  He 
knew  all  the  secrets  of  her  past  life,  the  murder  of  Vilani, 
and  the  attempt  to  remove  him  by  a  conviction  of  crime, 
and  thus  silence  forever  the  last  witness  of  her  guilt. 
Alonzo's  life  had  ever  been  retired,  and  without  ostenta- 
tion. Sensible,  discreet,  and  philosophic,  he  knew  that 
if  this  last  act  of  her  life  was  exposed  to  the  public,  she 
would  receive  neither  charity  nor  mercy,  and  be  held  up  to 
the  vilest  contempt  and  execration.  He  knew  that  her 
whole  life,  as  a  unit,  was  far  more  competent  to  decide 
her  fate  than  any  angry  and  misguided  public  senti- 
ment. 

He  often  times  appeared  himself  as  the  instrument 
of  Vilani's  cruelty  and  crime.  He  preserved  his  power, 
however,  to  heal  the  wounds,  if  he  could  not  save  the 
victim.  He  knew  that  Verono  had  been  betrayed,  and  had 
no  sympathy  for  Vilani,  that  he  had  thus  fallen  a  victim 
to  his  own  treachery.  Had  the  last  act  committed  by 
Verono  been  exposed,  the  public  would  not  have  known 
that  Vilani  had  in  fact  been  the  cause  of  her  ruin,  and 
thus  extend  to  her  charity  and  mercy.  It  is  one  of  those 
cases  where  the  victim  suffers  the  punishment  due  the 
criminal.  Sad  is  it  that  often  times  the  one  who  has  thus 
betrayed  an  innocent  victim,  is  called  a  gallant  gentleman, 
guilty  perhaps  of  a  few  indiscretions,  while  the  poor  victim 


^ 

^■l! 


i 


-•'/] 


^■> 


176 


EXILES  OF  LOUISIANA. 


'^ 


of  his  base  passion,  is  dying  in  all  the  agonies  of  despair, 
with  none  to  pity,  in  thv>  dark  hours  of  her  misfortune. 
The  unjust  decree  of  public  sentiment,  without  charity, 
without  mercy,  condemns  the  poor  victim  to  the  most 
fearful  punishment,  while  the  actual  criminal  is  pardoned, 
even  without  the  command,  "Thou  art  free,  go  sin  no 
more." 

Alonzo  had  made  the  firm  and  noble  resolution  to  save 
her  life,  and  with  the  aid  of  God  to  restore  her  to  happi- 
ness. He  had  noticed  that  oftentimes,  when  her  mind 
was  partially  restored,  she  called  on  Iphi  to  pardon  her 
for  the  wrong  she  had  done.  To  him  this  was  very 
hopeful. 

Iphi  often  called  at  tho  palace  to  inquired  after  the 
health  of  the  countess.  Alonzo  in  one  of  these  visits, 
informed  her  that  Verono  often  called  on  her  to  pardon 
and  forgive  her. 

"My  noble  benefactor!"  exclaimed  Iphi,  "none  but 
God  knows  how  I  would  rejoice  to  save  the  countess,  and 
restore  her  to  a  life  of  peace  and  happiness.  Myself  and 
my  dear  parents  pray  for  her  restoration.  I  have  noth- 
ing to  pardon  or  forgive  her  for;  I  never  felt  towards  her 
any  resentment  or  ill-will." 

Alonzo  said  to  her:  "I  believe  if  you  were  present 
when  these  intervals  of  partial  restoration  of  reason 
occurred,  you  could  save  her,  and  lead  her  back  to  life 
and  happiness." 

Iphi  thought  of  the  generous  and  noble  conduct  of 
Alonzo,  in  saving  Louis  from  the  perilous  position,  and 
also  in  rescuing  her  from  the  power  of  Vilani,  and  her 
heart  was  moved  with  gratitude,  and  she  replied  that 
there  was  no  earthly  comfort  or  pleasure  that  she  would 
not  forego  to  restore  the  Lady  Verono  to  happiness. 


REMORSE. 


177 


Alonzo  was  the  ccinplete  master  of  the  entire  ho"se- 
hold.  He  stated  to  Iphi  that  if  she  would  comf  .0  the 
palace  and  take  charge  of  the  countess,  and  the  manage- 
ment of  the  household,  that  ever}'thing  should  be  at  her 
command.  That  rooms  would  be  arranged  for  the  re- 
ception of  her  parents,  and  every  comfort  supplied  them. 
That  he  would  employ  good  and  faithful  gardeners  to 
take  care  of  the  cottage,  and  see  to  it  that  everything 
was  kept  in  order,  and  vith  her  approval  and  directions. 

This  was,  in  truth,  a  great  sacrifice  for  her  to  give  up 
her  sweet,  pleasaat  life  with  her  parents  in  their  humble, 
but  loved  home.  But  the  appeal  was  to  he^  generosity, 
her  charity,  and  mercy,  by  one  who  had  shown  to  her 
all  these  favors.  And  after  consulting  ner  parents,  the 
arrangement  was  made,  and  Iphi,  in  fact,  became  the 
mistress  of  the  palace  of  Vilani. 

Her  whole  time  and  attention  was  devoted  to  the 
restoration  of  Verono.  She  was  constantly  by  her  side, 
except  when  she  was  obliged  herself  to  rest  from  the 
weary  task.  The  countess  appeared  to  continue  in  that 
same  peculiar  condition,  occasionally  waking  up  as  from 
some  terrible  dream,  and  would  then  act  and  talk  as 
if  she  was  struggling  to  escape  some  horrible  doom 
that  threatened  her.  Jphi  at  such  times  was  moved  with 
compassion  for  her,  and  oftentimes  would  soothe  her 
to  rest  with  tender  words. 

She  managed  with  the  most  exact  economy  and  care. 
The  servants  of  the  entire  establishment,  respected  and 
loved  their  new  mistress,  and  having  a  good  example  set 
before  them,  they  also  became  attentive,  careful,  and 
industrious.  The  dishonest  Joseph,  who  l-ad  been  one 
of  Geno's  tools   and   confederates   in   crime,   was   given 


I?! 


li|. 


178 


EXILES   OF  LOUISLiNA. 


to  understand  by  Alonzo,  that  he  had  detected  him  in  his 
crime  in  stealing  the  gold  referred  to;,  Joseph  plead  so 
earnestly  for  pardon,  that  Alonzo  told  him  he  would 
now  watch  him  closely,  and  if  he  detected  in  him  the 
1 -ast  act  of  villiany,  would  hand  him  over  to  the  ofBcers 
of  the  law  for  punishment. 

Iphi's  parents  led  a  quiet,  retired  life,  but  it  was  not  the 
];leasant  cottage  life  they  had  been  used  to,  but  their 
beloved  child  was  following  in  the  course  of  duty,  and 
they  really  felt  happy  in  making  this  sacrifice  to  please 
her. 

The  shadows  of  evil  that  had  clung  to  this  palace 
of  Yilani,  had  passed  away  to  a  great  extent,  and  if  Iphi, 
in  lier  mission  of  love  and  care  for  the  unfortunate 
countess,  should  be  successful  in  restoring  her  to  life,  one 
of  the  greatest  desires  would  be  accomplished.  When 
the  countess  would  lay  in  apparent  death-like  stupor,  and 
then  arouse  to  consciousness,  she  was  so  miserable  and 
hopeless,  that  poor  Iphi  almost  despaired.  At  such  times 
the  strange,  weird  image  of  Francisco,  when  last  she  sav/ 
him,  would  rise  up  before  her,  pleading  in  his  impressive 
manner,  to  save  a  soul  that  was  about  to  fall  in  the  dark 
abyss,  to  cling  in  mercy  to  the  unfortunate  Verono.  She 
was  nerved  to  stand  fast  in  this  mission  of  love  that 
demanded  her  charity  and  mercy. 

The  countess  had  mocked  her  faith  ;  yet,  she  loved  her 
none  the  less,  for  she  pitied  her  unbelief.  Tlie  countess 
had,  with  the  most  unfeeling  cruelty,  trampled  upon  the 
dearest  feelings  of  her  heart,  used  her  as  a  base  instru- 
ment to  perpetrate  crime  and  iniquity.  Yet  she  never  felt 
for  her  the  least  resentment  for  these  wrongs,  but  would 
say,  "  How  sorrowful  to  think  that  God  has  forsaken  this 


THE  GOOD  ANGEL. 


179 


lost  one.     Oh,  how  I  would  rejoice  if  he  would  save  her, 
and  restore  her  to  a  life  of  peace  and  happiness  ! " 


VII. 


The  Good  Angel, 

The  sun  arose  in  splendor  from  the  waves  of  its  ocean 
bed.  Soon,  and  the  glad  waters  and  the  smiling  land- 
scape, were  basking  in  the  radiant  glory  of  an  Italian 
morn.  The  air  was  laden  with  the  sweet  perfume  of 
the  orange  blossom,  the  blossom  of  the  purple  vine,  and 
the  blooming  llowers.  The  sequestered  and  perfumed 
shadows  of  the  orange  and  citron  groves  were  filled  with 
the  sweet  melody  of  birds.  The  busy  hum  of  commerce 
came  up  from  the  shore,  the  market-place,  and  the  thronged 
streets.  It  was  the  freshness  and  vigor  of  morning  life. 
The  palace  of  Vilani  was  wrapt  in  gloom,  for  the  shadows 
of  death  fell  upon  its  portals.  He  did  not  enter,  for  God 
had  decreed  life  ;  the  prayers  of  Iphi  had  reached  the 
mercy  seat. 

Iphi,  sat  watching  with  intense  interest,  eveiy  change 
or  motion  of  the  Countess  De  Vilani.  True  to  her  noble 
nature,  she  would  rejoice  greatly  over  the  salvation  of  the 
one  that  was  supposed  to  be  lost.  It  was  like  that  tender, 
holy  love,  of  the  fond  mother,  over  the  wayward,  apostate 
son.  The  love  is  great,  for  pity  and  compassion  melts  the 
heart  into  extreme  tenderness.  The  countess  sighed,  and 
attracted  Iphi's  attention.  The  classic  features  of  Verono 
in  former  days  so  marked  with  majestic  beauty,  so  com- 
manding and  attractive,  were  now  expressive  of  a  plain- 


Ill 


}     f 


I  I 


i ' 


m 


i8o 


EXILES  OE  LOUISIANA. 


tive,  thoughtful  sachiess.  She  spoke  to  Iphi  in  an  audible 
tone.  Iphi  looked  at  her  with  amazement ;  the  look 
of  terror  that  had  often  been  partially  veiled  by  the 
radiant  beauty  of  Verono,  had  disappeared,  and  left  a 
smile  that  was  full  of  faith  and  love.  Iphi  mentally 
asked  herself,  "Oh,  can  it  be  possible,  that  heaven  has 
blessed  my  prayers,  and  realized  my  fond  hopes  ? " 

The  countess  said  to  her,  *'  My  dear  Iphi,  you  have 
come  to  me  at  last.  You  are  the  good  angel  to  bring  me 
pardon.  How  my  poor  heart  has  longed  for  this  hour, 
when  Iphi  would  come  and  drive  away  the  specter 
of  despair.  Blessed  maiden,  I  have  found  out  in  my 
dreams,  that  the  worship  of  Isis  and  Jupiter  were  but 
the  brilliant  images  of  fancy,  and  things  of  earth  and 
time.  Bm:  the  Faith,  Charity,  and  Mercy  of  Jesus 
connects  the  soul  with  the  Infinite,  who  is  supreme  over 
all  things  of  time  and  eternity.  God  has  sent  you  to 
me,  dear  maiden,  with  pardon  and  love." 

"  Dear  Lady !  I  have  never  ceased  to  love  you.  I  have 
been  with  you  long;  and  have  ever  prayed,  and  fondly 
hoped  for  the  coming  of  this  blessed  hour.  I  have  not 
the  power  to  pardon ;  but  how  thankful  I  am  that  God 
has  pardoned  you."  She  pressed  the  lips  of  the  countess 
with  the  kiss  of  love,  while  her  tears  of  holy  joy  fell 
upon  the  pale,  wan  cheek,  so  marked  with  long  suffer- 
ing. 

The  arms  of  the  once  proud,  lofty,  ambitious  Countess 
I)e  Vilani  clasped  to  her  embrace  the  Flower  Girl,  who 
had  said  to  her  in  days  past,  the  religion  of  Jesus  is  im- 
perishable, for  it  teaches  us  Love,  Charity,  and  Mercy. 
She  clings  to  Iphi,  as  if  her  only  salvation  was  to  anchor 
to  this  grand  being,  who  was  now  to  her  the  only  link 


FRANCISCO  AND  CALVETTL 


i8i 


between  time  and  eternity.  Tiiey  were  alone  in  this 
apartment,  in  tiiis  peaceful,  happy  morning  hour.  The 
shadows  of  death,  in  search  of  a  victim,  no  lonjjer  fell 
upon  the  portals  of  the  palace.  And,  doubtless,  this 
Greek  maiden,  with  the  genius  of  her  race  and  the  in- 
spiration of  the  hour,  heard  the  angels,  song  and  felt 
the  presence  of  Infinite  love. 


VIII. 
Francisco  and  Calvetti. 

"  What  has  become  of  Francisco  ?  "  was  often  asked 
by  Alonzo  and  Iphi.  Neither  he  nor  his  attendant  had 
been  heard  from  for  many  months.  Alonzo  now  became 
alarmed,  and  regretted  that  he  had  not  paid  more  atten- 
tion of  late  to  his  movements.  He  had  every  confidence 
in  the  integrity  and  good  sense  of  the  person  he  had  placed 
in  charge.  They  had  both  left  the  house  occupied  by  them, 
and  the  chaise  was  there  ;  but  the  liorse  had  been  left  in 
the  care  of  one  of  the  neighbors,  with  instructions  to  keep 
him  until  their  return. 

What  most  astonished  Alonzo,  was  that  the  attendant 
did  not  inform  him  of  his  departure,  but  he  at  length  con- 
cluded that  it  was  some  fancy  that  had  seized  Francisco, 
that  no  one  except  himself  and  his  attendant  knew  what 
he  was  doing.  There  was  no  person  in  Leghorn  who  had 
ever  seen  him  to  know  him  since  he  left  the  Hall  of 
Justice,  on  the  day  of  Alonzo's  trial.  He  had  been  seen 
by  rumor,  for  every  beggar  who  was  unknown,  or  pil;,,riin, 
or  trading  pedler,  was  declared  to  be  the  insane  count, 
appearing  in  different  places  at  the  same  time. 


I 


>    .fl 


11  ■•  " 


182 


EXILES  OE  LOUISIANA. 


Alonzo's  anxiety  was  at  length  relieved  by  receiving 
a  letter  from  Calvetti,  Francisco's  attendant,  informing 
him  that  Francisco  had  taken  a  notion  to  go  to  Palestine, 
and  the  Holy  Land,  and  that  when  they  left  Leghorn, 
Francisco  had  commanded  him  in  the  strongest  terms,  to 
inform  no  one  of  his  departure ;  he  left  in  the  character 
and  dress  of  a  pilgrim ;  Calvetti  took  means  enough  to 
defray  expenses;  that  he  had  taken  good  care  of  him, 
and  watched  over  him  carefully,  and  that  nothing  had 
'occurred  to  interrupt  them  in  their  travels. 

Francisco-had  given  as  a  reason  that  he  could  not  remain 
satisfied  at  Leghorn,  and  if  his  plans  had  been  known, 
some  one  would  interfere  with  his  designs.  Francisco  was 
content,  as  he  had  left  Verono  in  the  hands  of  Iphi,  that 
no  evil  could  befall  the  good  Alonzo,  and  that  he  was 
now  writing  to  him  with  Francisco's  consent.  He  further 
stated  that  in  one  of  the  ports  of  the  Mediterranean  they 
had  fallen  in  with  an  American  merchant  vessel  called  the 
"Lafayette,"  commanded  by  a  captain  of  the  name  of 
Smith,  and  that  Francisco  was  much  charmed  with  his 
description  of  the  Great  Republic,  where  the  people  ruled 
and  had  no  king.  This  Captain  Smith  v/as  almost  as 
strange  and  eccentric  to  me  as  my  ward  Francisco.  He 
would  often  say  to  me  :  "  Calvetti !  by  Moses,  this  man  of 
yours  has  more  good  sense  mixed  up  with  his  insanity 
than  any  madman  I  have  ever  seen  in  my  born  days." 

"  This  sea-captain  was  so  much  taken  with  Francisco's 
strange  manner  that  he  was  exceedingly  anxious  to  learn 
his  history;  but,  of  course,  Francisco  would  have  forbid- 
den me  giving  it  to  him.  He  was  satisfied,  however,  with 
me  telling  him  he  was  a  nobleman  who  was  supposed  to 
be  insane;   but  the  few  persons  who  knew  him  well,  be- 


FRANCISCO  AND  CALVETTL 


183 


I: 


lieved  that  it  was  nothing  more  than  a' great  degree  of 
eccentricitv,  and  that  he  was  under  the  influence  of  a  wild 
ungovernable  fancy  that  he  must  act  for  the  happiness 
and  beneht  of  the  human  race;  that  he  possessed  a  noble, 
generous  heart,  but  visionary  in  the  practical  application 
of  his  good  intentions. 

"  Francisco's  attachment  to  Captain  Smith  daily  in- 
creased, so  that,  at  length,  nothing  could  induce  him,  when 
he  arrived  at  Leghorn,  to  quit  the  vessel  and  return  home, 
and  rest  for  a  time.  Captain  Smith  assured  me,  that  if 
he  insisted  on  staying:  with  him,  he  would  be  amply  pro- 
tected and  cared  for,  and  that  everything  he  could  do 
to  make  him  comfortable  and  contented  would  be  done. 
Francisco  insisted  on  me  going  ashore  and  arranging  for 
funds  necessary  to  pay  expenses  to  the  United  States  and 
return,  with  the  further  injunction  that  I  was  not  to  make 
it  known  to  any  one  where  he  was  going."  This  letter  to 
Alonzo  was  dated  at  Marseilles,  and  written  on  their  way 
to  see  the  Grand  Republic  that  Captain  Smith  had  de- 
scribed in  such  glowing  terms. 

Alonzo  was  satisfied  with  this  account,  for  he  was  well 
convinced  that  nothing  could  be  done  to  change  his  inten- 
tions, and  that  if  he  was  to  use  force  or  violence  on  Fran- 
cisco to  keep  him  confined,  and  deprive  him  of  self-reli- 
ance and  liberty,  it  would  have  a  very  bad  effect  on  his 
mind,  and  perhaps  reproduce  absolute  insanity;  and  there 
was  that  strange  fancy,  that  seemed  to  have  entire  posses- 
sion of  him,  that  he  wanted  no  one  to  know  who  he  was. 


\ 


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184 


EXILES   OF  LOUISIANA, 


Book  xil. 

ANNETTA. 

I. 

MURAT. 

Murat,  King  of  Naples,  maintained  his  power  by  clem- 
ency, even  after  Napoleon's  downfall  and  imprisonment  on 
the  Island  of  Elba.  But  when  the  Emperor  had  escaped, 
and  again  returned  to  France,  Murat,  in  his  effort  to  assist 
him  to  regain  his  lost  power,  was  betrayed  by  pretended 
friends  into  the  hands  of  his  enemies  ;  and  on  the  19th  of 
October,  a.  d.  1815,  he  was  put  to  death  by  the  order  of 

Ferdinand. 

What  greater  praise  is  there   for  the   memory  of   the 

dead  than  to  say  he  was  brave  among  the  bravest ;  that  he 

was  a  hero,  confronting  in  battle  the  heroic ;  that  his  heart 

was  moved  to  pity  and  compassion  for  every  human  being 

that  was  stricken  with  sorrow ;  that  he  was  merciful  even 

to  the  merciless  .'*     Splendid  as  were  his  achievements  as  a 

commander,  they  were  surpassed  by  the  grandeur  of  his 

magnanimity,  his  kindness,  his  charity. 


II. 

Years  have  passed  away — years  that  have  been  marked 
with  the  most  marvellous  events  in  the  history  of  Europe. 


MURAT, 


^85 


Napoleon  has  escaped  from  Elba,  and  is  again  preparing 
for  that  final  contest  on  the  bloody  field  of  Waterloo. 
The  historian  has  well  described  these  grand  historical 
events  ;  we  have  a  more  humble  theme,  by  taking  the 
Alps  valley,  the  birthplace  of  Paul  Lorraine,  and  speaking 
to  you  of  the  virtues  of  the  humble  and  good.  It  has 
changed  but  little  since  we  last  saw  it.  Paul  is  still  there, 
in  the  memory  of  thehearts  who  loved  him  so  well.  There 
is  the  boy — now  almost  a  man  —  that  he  grasj^ed  from 
the  jaws  of  death  on  the  verge  of  the  abyss.  He  loves  to 
tell  people  how  good  Paul  Lorraine  was.  The  little  chil- 
dren who  followed  him  with  sadntss  and  sorrow  when 
first  he  left  for  the  battle-field,  now  grown  up  to  be  men 
and  women,  talk  with  touching  pathos  of  their  dear 
Paul  who  had  gone  from  them,  never  to  return.  There  is 
still  the  grand  old  mountains,  the  forest,  the  fields,  the 
brook,  and  the  cemetery  where  the  beloved  dead  repose  in 
their  lonely  graves.  There  is  still  the  Lorraine  cottage; 
the  goc  ^  old  mother  and  Annetta.  There,  too,  is  the  cot- 
tage where  Annetta  was  born  and  where  her  parents  died  ; 
and  there  is  still  that  vine-covered  porch  from  which  Paul 
and  Annetta  oftentimes  watched  the  stars  and  selected  one 
for  their  abiding-place  in  the  immortal  world.  Uncle 
Louis  now  had  charge  of  this  property,  and,  with  the  aid 
of  his  two  sons,  had  spare  time  to  assist  Annetta  and 
the  good  mother  in  the  care  of  their  place.  It  was  still 
a  beautiful  happy  home ;  yet  there  are  many  things  to 
remind  them  of  their  sad  bereavement. 

Annetta  has  oftentimes  thought  of  what  she  had  said  to 
Paul,  "  If  you  were  to  die,  I  feel  as  if  I  could  not  live. 
I  would  not  grieve  and  mourn  uselessly ;  but  I  would  feel 
as  if  severed  from  earth,  and  like  the  vine  severed  from 


I 


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EXILES    OE  LOUISIANA. 


its  root,  fade,  wither,  and  perisli."  Slie  oftentimes  thought 
that  if  it  was  not  for  her  old  mother  and  uncle  Louis,  she 
would  gladly  go  to  the  star  Paul  and  herself  had  chosen 
as  their  abiding-place  in  the  other  world.  Although  Paul 
had  died  the  death  of  a  condemned  man,  the  generous 
Murat,  in  his  last  letter  of  condolence  to  them,  declared 
that  it  was  a  noble,  heroic  sacrifice,  to  save  the  armies  of 
his  country  from  demoralization  ;  that  it  was  a  voluntary 
offer  to  save  the  lives  of  others,  equally,  if  not  more  to 
blame  for  the  unfortunate  calamity  than  he  ;  that  he  was 
betrayed  into  it  through  his  noble  conduct  in  rescuing  an 
innocent  girl  from  a  most  cruel  fate.  Annetta  had  heard 
detailed  the  generous  conduct  of  Paul  in  rescuing  Iphi, 
and  her  heart  rejoiced  in  the  brave  and  noble  conduct  of 
her  dear  Paul.  When  she  looked  out  upon  the  lofty  cliffs 
of  the  Alps,  and,  in  memory,  saw  him  pass  along  on  their 
craggy  heights,  with  eyes  dimmed  with  tears  she  would 
exclaim,  "  Oh  !  he  was  so  good  —  so  true  and  kind  to  all 
—  surely  God  will  take  care  of  so  good  a  one." 

Mother  Lorraine  was  greatly  consoled  with  the  state- 
ment of  Murat,  that  his  death  was  in  honor  ;  not  dishonor. 
She  saw  that  this  act  did  not  involve  any  criminal  intent, 
and  that  God  would  pardon  him  for  this,  when  his  whole 
life  was  so  full  of  love  and  kindness  for  others. 


.!      1 


in. 

Uncle  Louis  Lorraine  was  still,  and  had  ever  been,  the 
true  and  faithful  friend  of  the  good  old  mother  and  An- 
netta. One  day  Louis  received  a  letter.  It  had  been 
postmarked  at  Marseilles.  He  opened  it  and  it  read  as 
follows  :  — 


MURAT. 


187 


"Dear  Uncle  Louis,  —  I  am  still  livin<!;.  Oh!  my 
clear  mother  !  my  clear  Annetta  !  How  my  poor  heart  lon^s 
to  embrace  them.  I  have  thus  written  to  you,  so  that  you 
might,  with  your  good  sense  and  discretion,  gradually  con- 
vey to  them  this  intelligence.  1  would  have  written  this 
to  you  long  since,  but  1  was  fearful  that  I  might  in  some 
way  compromise  the  position  of  my  dear  preserver  with 
the  Emperor  Napoleon  ;  and  I  would  suffer  death  gladly 
before  that  should  occur.  Even  yet.  Uncle  Louis,  you 
need  not  make  this  public.  You  will,  hi  a  short  time, 
receive  word  to  be  at  Marseilles  at  a  certain  time,  where 
arrangements  have  been  made  to  have  you  all  come  to  me 
— mother,  Annetta,  yourself  and  sons.  Tell  mother  and 
Annetta  to  keep  strong,  so  that  they  can  endure  a  long 
journey.  God  has  been  good  to  me,  and  he  will  yet  allow 
me  to  see  once  more  on  earth  the  beloved  ones  of  my 
heart.     In  love.  Paul  Lorraine." 

Louis  sat  down  and  wept  tears  of  joy.  Could  it  be 
possible  that  God,  in  His  infinite  goodness,  would  again 
permit  them  once  more  on  earth  to  clasp  to  their  hearts 
the  happy,  good,  brave  boy,  that  left  them  so  many  \  cars 
ago,  and  whose  death  they  had  mourned  so  many  sorrow- 
ful days  and  nights.  Louis  saw  that  his  task  was  one  of 
difficulty.  He  had  to  converse  with  mother  and  Annetta 
about  Paul,  and  at  the  same  time  conceal  his  feelings, 
when  his  heart  was  full.  It  was  about  the  usual  hour  for 
him  to  visit  the  cottage,  and  he  concluded  to  go  at  once 
and  commence  on  the  subject  by  degrees.  Annetta  had 
endured  so  many  sorrows — the  death  of  her  parents,  her 
infant,  and  her  husband, —  that  it  had  marked  her  pale 
face  with  sadness,  and  given  a  touching,  plaintive  tone  to 
her  voice. 


A# 


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EXILES  OF  LOUISIANA. 


Louis  commenced  forthwith,  and  said  that  he  sometimes 
thought  he  would  yet  see  Paul. 

Annetta  said,  "  Since  I  have  looked  at  you.  Uncle 
Louis,  you  look  a  great  deal  more  cheerful  than  common, 
what  does  it  all  mean  uncle  ?  tell  us ;  do,  pray  ?  " 

"  I  was  thinking  over  a  certain  clause  in  the  letter 
which  the  king  of  Naples  wrote  you  first,  and  I  am  now 
convinced  that  he  intended  it  for  a  hope.  He  said,  *  Do 
not  sorrow  too  much,  for  in  the  end  it  will  be  well,' 
What  did  he  mean,  in  the  end  it  will  be  well  ?  Well,  in 
this  world,  or  in  the  world  to  come  ? " 

"  Oh,  Uncle  Louis  !  do  not  say  anything  that  would  give 
us  hope,  without  any  possibility  that  it  will  be  true  !  The 
disappointment  would  be  so  hard  for  me  to  bear." 

"  No,  no,  Annetta !  God  forbid  that  I  should  trifle 
with  your  feelings,  but  I  have  often  thought  much  about 
this  matter,  and  I  tell  you  Annetta,  that  I  do  believe  that 
Paul  is  still  living." 

"Oh,  Uncle  Louis!  I  do  not  know  what  to  think 
of  your  strange  words,  and  you  cannot  conceal  a  joyful 
look  on  your  face,  that  has  not  been  there  for  a  long 
time.     And  I  am  not  able  to  tell  why  it  is  so." 

Uncle  Louis  addressed  himself  to  the  mother,  to 
procure  him  Murat's  letter,  informing  her  the  first  time 
of  the  sad  fate  of  her  son.  The  letter  was  procured,  and 
the  sentence  was  as  Louis  had  said,  "  Do  not  sorrow  too 
much  for  him,  for  in  the  end  all  will  be  well." 

"Annetta,  now  listen  to  me.  The  king  of  Naples  was 
ordered  to  execute  every  man  in  the  regiment  who  had 
participated  in  the  mutiny.  Murat,  of  his  own  accord, 
mitigated  the  positive  command  of  the  emperor,  in  agree- 
ing to  accept  three  who  should  suffer  death  as  an  example 


a 


ANNETTA. 


189 


to  others.  Paul  was  not  chosen  by  lot,  but  volunteered 
to  suffer  for  the  balance,  so  also  did  his  noble,  brave  com- 
panions. This  very  act  had  moved  Murat  with  such 
admiration  of  the  heroic  conduct  of  Paul,  Jean,  and 
Louis,  and  knowing  too,  at  this  time,  the  generous  part 
they  had  taken  in  the  rescue  of  Iphi,  that  he  resolved  at 
all  hazards  to  save  their  lives, 'and  have  the  emperor 
believe  he  had  executed  his  order.  If  it  was  believed  by 
the  whole  entire  army,  that  they  had  suffered  death  for  the 
offence,  the  example  to  deter  others  was  thus  accom- 
plished. Paul  could  not  risk  even  writing  to  his  rela- 
tives or  friends,  for  fear  of  compromising  his  noble, 
generous  preserver.  And  thus  it  is,  my  dear  Annetta,  and 
dear  mother,  that  I  believe  that  our  beloved  boy  is  yet 
alive." 

The  good  old  mother  sat  silent.  Her  heart  was  full 
of  prayer  and  thankfulness.  To  her  it  was  apparent  that 
God  had  put  it  in  the  heart  of  this  grand  man  to  be  merci- 
ful to  her  dear  son,  and  save  his  life.  Her  heart  was  con- 
vinced that  she  would  yet  see  her  darling  boy,  and  with 
tears  of  joy  dimming  her  aged  eyes,  she  thanked  the 
Infinite  goodness  that  had  spared  his  life. 

Annetta's  heart  was  almost  bursting  with  emotion.  She 
said,  "  Oh,  dear  Uncle  Louis  !  can  it  be,  can  it  be,  that  our 
dear,  dear  Paul  is  yet  alive  ?  I  always  thought  he  was  so 
good,  true,  and  brave,  that  every  one  would  be  merciful  to 
him  and  save  him  from  evil,  and  that  the  good  angel 
would  guard  him.  Oh  !  Uncle  Louis  !  is  Paul  still  alive  ? 
Can  it  be  ?  can  it  be,  that  the  dear  one  yet  lives  ? " 

Louis  saw  that  her  emotion  was  intense,  and  he  said  to 
her,  "Dear  Annetta,  calm  yourself.  Excessive  joy  is 
quite  as  dangerous  as  excessive  grief.     If  Paul  is  alive. 


'1,1 


Ti 


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ft*   » 


190 


EXILES    OF  LOUISIANA. 


I !  -■•    , 


it  will  require  all  your  fortitude  and  strength  to  go  to  him, 
for  he  is  far  away.  Would  it  not  be  better  for  me  to  call 
again,  and  we  will  talk  this  matter  over  when  you  have 
become  more  composed." 

"  Dear  Uncle  Louis,  I  know  what  your  kindness  means. 
Vou  know  something  that  you  have  not  yet  told  us.  I 
liave  more  fortitude,  morS  strength,  than  you  think  T  have, 
Uncle  Louis.  I  could  travel  to  the  utmost  parts  of  the 
earth,  to  see  my  beloved.  God  will  give  me  strength  to 
go  to  him,  be  he  where  he  may.  Were  you  to  leave  me 
now,  I  could  not  rest,  v/ith  the  belief  that  you  had  some 
knowledge  of  our  dear  one,  that  you  have  feared  to  tell 
us,  and  my  anxiety  would  be  too  fearful  to  bear." 

Louis  saw  the  force  of  Annetta's  remark,  and  for  a 
while  was  silent  and  thoughtful.  Annetta  had  thus  far 
showed  a  strength  and  fortitude  that  he  never  dreamed 
she  possessed.  He  looked,  upon  her  pale,  thin  face,  and 
saw  at  a  glance  that  there  was  a  will  and  resolution  that 
amazed  him. 

No  one  can  properly  estimate  in  others,  the  power  and 
grandeur  of  this  firm  reliance  on  the  love,  charily,  and 
mercy,  of  a  supreme  being.  We  know  nothing  of  the 
power  of  this  faith  on  the  hearts  of  others.  They  cannot 
themselves  explain  this  wonderful  conviction  of  feeling, 
that  nothing  can  change  or  weaken.  It  was  this  faith  that 
Louis  could  not  see  or  appreciate,  and  this  was  the  source 
of  the  strength  of  Annetta,  that  to  him  was  marvellous. 
He  therefore  drew  from  his  pocket  the  letter,  and  de- 
liberately and  slowly  read  it  to  Annetta  and  Mother 
Lorraine.  Annetta,  without  saying  a  word,  took  it  and 
read  it,  then  kissed  it,  and  bathed  the  precious  letter  with 
a  flood  of  tears.     Each  one  was  silently  returning  thanks 


.  <  ■ ! 


I 


UNCLE  LOUIS  READING  PAUL'S  LETTER  TO  ANNETTA  AND 
MOTHER  LORRAINE.    Page  190. 


>> 


-y 


RELIGION  AND  GOVERNMENT,        193 

to  God,  and  the  merciful  king,  who  had  been  so  good  to 
their  son,  rnd  charitable  to  them  all. 

It  was  that  kind  of  pure,  exalted,  and  holy  gratitude, 
that  was  acceptable  to  heaven.  How  the  kind  heart  of 
tlie  merciful  king  would  have  rejoiced  in  the  sweet  incense 
of  this  praise  oflfered  up  to  him  from  the  souls  of  these 
humble  peasants.  The  grandeur  of  his  victory,  on  the 
field  of  Jena,  was  nothing  against  the  sublime  act  of 
mercy  that  saved  the  lives  of  these  heroic  sons  of  France. 
Man  praised  the  victory  of  Jena,  but  God  blessed  him  for 
his  charity  and  mercy. 


IV. 

Religion  and  Government. 

We  have  not  the  desire  to  assail  any  creed  or  theology. 
They  are  taught  in  the  schools,  and  are,  to  a  great  extent, 
known  best  to  the  learned  and  educated.  But  faith  in 
the  existence  of  a  supreme  intelligence,  hope  for  im- 
mortality, and  charity  for  mankind,  are  attributes  of  the 
human  soul^  that,  in  the  words  of  the  i^theist,  have  been 
evolved  by  the  operation  of  cause  and  effect. 

They  are  not  produced  by  education,  but  are  improved 
and  enlightened  by  education,  and  sad  is  it  they  are  often 
perv^erted  by  the  same  cause. 

Every  human  soul  has  been  moved  with  faith  in  a  power 
above  man  and  earth.  Every  human  soul  has  been  glad- 
ened  with  hope.  Every  human  heart  has  been  touched 
with  love  and  sympathy. 

It  is  this  that  has  made  the  teachings  of  Jesus  of  Naza- 
reth imperishable.     Primitive  Christianity  will  survive  all 


\\ 


m 


iii 


194 


EXILES    OF  LOUISIANA. 


creeds,  all  theology,  all  the  doctrines  and  teachings  of  the 
schools. 

Shakespeare  and  Burns  awakened  these  feelings  in  the 
human  heart,  touched  that  tender  cord  of  union  and 
sympathy  in  the  human  breast,  and  made  their  names 
immortal.  They  are  not  only  admired,  but  they  are 
loved. 

We  do  not  see  God  with  physical  or  mental  eye.  We 
do  not  reason  ourselves  into  the  belief  of  his  existence. 
We  do  not  believe  in  his  existence  on  account  of  miracles 
performed.  It  is  the  genius  of  the  heart  that  makes  us 
feel,  rather  than  the  mind  to  think,  that  there  is,  over  and 
above  all,  a  supreme  intelligence,  whose  wisdom  is  far  be- 
yond our  finite  comprehension.  There  have  been  men  of 
that  cast  of  genius,  that  they  feel  great  truths  rather  than 
see  them.  Robert  Burns,  with  his  grand  heart,  with  its 
force  and  power,  made  millions  of  human  beings  feel 
great  truths,  with  greater  force  than  reason  or  logic  could 
have  done.  He  felt  great  truths  to  exist,  and  he  made 
others  feel  their  force  and  beauty,  so  impressive,  that  they 
never  forget  them.  The  human  heart  feels,  outside  of 
revelation  or  miracles,  that  there  is  a  supreme  intelligence 
above  man.  Martyrs  who  have  died  for  their  faith,  or 
have  fallen  in  the  cause  of  human  liberty,  died  believing 
that  they  were  in  harmony  with  the  Infinite.  Robert 
Emmet,  the  grand  el  example  of  martyrdom,  in  the  cause 
of  liberty,  in  Uie  history  of  man,  felt  in  his  last  hour  that 
God  was  present  with  him.  Not  tliat  he  was  with  him  in 
a  personal  sense,  but  his  soul  was  in  accord  with  the 
divine  attributes  of  the  Infinite. 

The  human  heart  canrtot  rest  satisfied  with  the  belief, 


RELIGION  AND  GOVERNMENT.         195 

that  in  all  these  vast  realms,  countless,  endless,  unnum- 
bered worlds,  that  man  on  this  little  earth  is  the  only  being 
that  thinks,  knows,  or  feels.  The  astronomer,  by  figures, 
facts,  and  logic,  tells  us  that  there  are  in  the  heavens 
shining  stars  whose  light  is  thousands  of  years  traversing 
the  space  between  them  and  earth.  And  they  are  no 
nearer  the  end  of  creation  than  we,  for  there  is  no  end. 
The  atheist  tells  us  that  man  is  evolved,  by  cause  and 
effect,  i,  om  the  very  lowest  order  of  creation.  The  athe- 
ist who  stands  in  his  lofty  tower,  with  his  wide,  expansive 
horizon  for  his  view,  and  can  see  no  God,  is  himself  a 
god  of  the  first  magnitude,  and  looks  with  scorn  upon 
both  Moses  and  Jesus,  while  the  grand  army  of  love 
and  charity,  who  go  with  man  in  the  dreary  walks  of  his 
pilgrimage  on  earth,  to  cheer  him  in  his  sorrows,  bring  joy 
to  hearts  in  despair,  teach  him  Faith,  Hope  and  Charity, 
are  but  little  pigmies,  groping  in  darkness,  for  they  can- 
not see  the  light.  Every  Pagan  martyr  had  hopes  of 
immortality,  when  he  perished  for  his  faith.  Every  Jew- 
ish martyr  died  in  the  firm  belief  that  there  was  a  God 
who  would  reward  his  sufferings.  Every  Christian  martyr 
felt  in  the  hour  of  his  death,  the  inspiration  of  immortal 
joy.  Socrates,  whose  life  was  said  to  be  pure  and  good, 
was  willing  to  die  rather  than  live,  denying  the  existence 
of  one  supreme  being  who  was  above  all  things  of  time 
and  eternity.  ' 

The  splendor  of  the  orations  of  Demosthenes  and 
Cicero,  are  enduring  monuments  of  the  grand  inspiration 
of  genius.  But  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount  is  above  them 
all,  for  it  was  inspired  with  the  love,  charity,  and  mercy  of 
the  Infinite. 


196 


EXILES   OE  LOUISIANA. 


Infidelity  of  this  period  is  uncharitable,  for  the  church 
of  the  fourteenth  century  is  not  the  church  of  the  nine- 
teenth centur)'.  The  bigotry  of  this  present  period  is  not 
so  dangerous  to  the  downfall  of  liberty  as  the  bitter, 
uncharitable  partisan,  who  would  sacrifice  country  for 
party,  and  would  sooner  gain  a  political  triumph,  than  to 
secure  liberty  and  establish  justice. 

History  proves  another  thing  that  infidelity  will  not 
admit.  In  all  ages,  while  bigotry  and  intolerance  were 
cursing  the  world  with  unnumbered,  countless  acts  of  cru- 
elty. Christian  charity  went  forth  in  its  mission  of  love  to 
heal  the  wounds  made  by  this  ruthless  hate.  With  the 
tender  touch  of  loving  hands  it  has  cooled  the  fevered 
brow  of  the  dying  Pagan,  Christian,  Jew.  It  has  kissed 
the  tears  from  the  cheek  of  dying  Infidel  —  for  Jesus  said, 
"  love  even  thine  enemies."  In  the  last  hours  loving  lips 
have  whispered  words  of  hope  and  consolation.  Thanks 
to  this  grand  army  of  charity  that  have  so  blessed  suffer- 
ing humanity  in  all  ages.  Thanks  to  these  noble  souls 
who  have  so  often,  with  tears  of  pity,  moistened  the  pillow 
of  the  death-bed  of  friend  and  foe. 

The  bigot,  or  the  hypocrite,  has  not  one-half  the  power 
to  destroy  liberty  and  the  rights  of  man  in  the  nineteenth 
century,  as  the  demogogue  or  the  unjust  partisan,  who 
slanders  his  opponents  on  the  one  side  and,  with  infamous 
hypocrisy,  conceals  the  villany  of  his  own  partisans.  In 
truth,  since  our  Fathers  so  wisely  divorced  church  and  state, 
there  is  no  danger  of  a  subversion  of  the  state  by  the 
church,  but  there  can  be  no  constitutional  barrier  against 
the  demagogue,  if  he  can,  with  his  eloquence,  deceive  and 
betray  the  people  to  ruin. 

The  love  of  liberty  is  natural  in  the  human  heart.    The 


RELIGION  AND  GOVERNMENT. 


197 


demogogue  opens  the  pathway  for  the  ambition  of  the 
despot.  Bigotry  and  intolerance  produce  the  infidel  and 
the  atheist.  The  first  are  the  silent,  unseen  assassins  of 
faith,  hope,  and  charity,  while  the  latter  are  the  open 
and  armed  enemies  of  all  religion.  They  are  both  dog- 
matic, presumptuous,  intolerant  and  void  of  charity.  They 
carry  in  their  pockets  rules  to  measure  other  men's  in- 
telligence. The  bigot  has  a  narrow  creed  or  theology 
to  judge  men's  faith  in  a  religion  that  is  infinite  in  its 
magnanimity  and  grandeur.  Ine  infidel  measures  all  by 
a  materialistic  view,  and  all  that  do  not  come  up  to  his 
standard,  are  fools  or  knaves ;  and  thus,  they  both  are 
waging  relentless  war  on  faith,  hope,  and  charity. 

The  political  partisan,  actuated  by  ambition,  is  the 
deadly  foe  of  liberty. 

The  bigot  and  the  intolerant  are  the  deadly  enemies 
of  faith,  hope,  and  charity. 

We  do  not  love  liberty  less,  we  do  not  love  faith,  hope, 
and  charity  less,  but  we  love  them  more,  for  they  have 
been  betrayed  by  their  pretended  friends. 

Bigotry  and  intolerance,  void  of  charity,  with  their 
narrow  creeds,  have  filled  the  world  with  woe.  Their 
pathways  have  been  marked  in  all  ages,  with  agony  and 
tears.  Often  has  Christianity  been  assassinated  in  the 
house  of  its  friends,  and  thus  put  arguments  in  the 
mouths  of  its  open  enemies  to  destroy  its  virtues.  Had 
it  not  been  so,  long  centuries  back,  faith,  hope,  and 
charity,  would  have  blessed  the  nations  of  the  earth. 

The  great  mind  of  Napoleon  gave  utterance  in  sub- 
stance to  this  thought.  Alexander,  Hannibal,  and  Caesar 
conquered  empires,  and  were  renowned  in  antiquity,  and 
their  names  have  survived  the  centuries.    Jesus  is  above 


% 


•■I  '•'- 


I 


198 


EXILES  OF  LOUISIANA. 


them  all,  with  a  life  of  perfect  humility.  He  is  remem- 
bered for  his  love  of  mankind ;  surely  he  was  more  than 
mortal.  Here  then  Napoleon  struck  the  living,  vital 
principal  that  is  imperishable,  and  will  survive  as  long  as 
human  heart  throbs  in  human  breast. 

It  is  the  faith,    hope,  and  charity,  offered  to  man  in 
his  dreary  pilgrimage  on  earth. 


THE  EXILES, 


199 


>     ^     • 


BOOK    XIII. 


I. 

The  Exiles. 

Napoleon  is  imprisoned  on  the  Island  of  St.  Helena. 
Mysterious  destiny.  Are  the  marvellous  triumphs  of  this 
peerless  man  to  close  forever?  Such  was  the  decree  of 
the  Supreme  will.  Why  this  was  so  vvt  know  not,  the 
Infinite  mind  alone  knows.  Perhaps  he  had  violated 
some  supreme  law  of  justice,  fo  which  there  was  no 
pardon.  Perhaps  there  was  a  period  in  his  strange, 
wonderful  life,  when  destiny  gave  iiim  the  power  to 
choose  between  good  and  evil,  and  said  to  him,  here  are 
two  roads  in  thy  life,  choose  for  thyself. 

The  one  is  Josephine,  and  the  love  of  the  people, 
Marengo,  Jena,  Austerlitz,  Victory,  Liberty,  Republic  for 
France,  and  the  doctrine  of  self-government,  secured  to 
his  country  forever,  the  love  and  praise  of  mankind,  the  j***" 
approval  of  divine  justice,  with  a  triumph  unsurpassed  in 
history. 

The  other  was  divorce  from  Josephine,  and  wed  the 
queenly  Louisa,  and  get  a  throne  among  the  kings,  furnish 
France  with  a  line  of  kings ;  betrayed  and  imprisoned  on 
the  Island  of  Elba,  escape,  again  betrayed  on  the  field 
of  Waterloo,  again  exiled  on  the  Island  of  St.  Helena,  to 
die  in  despair.  • 

When  he  divorced  Josephine  perhaps  he  divorced  his 
good  angel  as  well  as  the  hearts  of  the  people.  Who 
knows  ?     God  knows. 


f 


'H 


.' . 


300 


EXILES  OF  LOUISIANA, 


I 

m 


II. 


Louisiana. 

In  the  fore  part  of  this  century  there  were  two  French- 
men, by  the  name  of  Harrold  who  purchased  and  moved 
into  a  small  plantation  not  very  far  from  the  city  of 
New  Orleans. 

They  were  represented  as  brothers.  The  younger  one 
was  named  Francis  Harrold,  the  elder  one  Claude.  Francis 
was  very  lively  and  cheerful,  while  Claude  was  much  more 
thoughtful,  and  at  times  looked  and  acted  as  if  some  sad 
and  sorrowful  memory  was  resting  upon  his  heart. 

He  was  very  reserved,  and  had  but  little  communication 
with  his  neighbors,  and  in  fact,  never,  without  he  was 
engaged  in  performing  some  act  of  charity  or  friendship. 

There  were  many  of  their  friends  who  made  inquiries 
with  regard  to  Claude,  that  did  not  arise  from  mere  selfish 
curiosity.  They  did  not  think  that  this  man  was  sad  from 
remorse,  or  conscious  guilt. 

"  They  would  say  this :  "  He  is  a  good  man,  I  am  sure 
of  that.  I  would  like  to  know  why  he  is  so  sad  at  times, 
for  perhaps  it  is  in  my  power  to  assist  him,  which  I  would 
like  so  much  to  do."  , 

He  was  very  industrious,  worked  hard,  both  himself  and 
Francis.  They  lived  well  and  comfortably.  The  planta- 
tion was  small,  and  everything  was  in  order  and  looked 
neat  and  tidy.  The  house  was  a  one  story  cottage,  with 
four  rooms  on  the  first  fioor,  and  with  one  or  two  sleeping 
rooms  in  the  other  story  formed  by  the  high  peaked 
French  gables.     Back  of  the  house,  there  was  a  long  line 


II 


'■i—. 


LOUISIANA. 


20I 


of  high,  dense  forests  of  oak,  Cyprus,  and  walnut,  inter- 
spersed with  magnolia.  It  rose  up  clear  cut  from  the 
cultivated  fields,  and  at  the  dim  twilight  hour  looked  like 
an  army  of  mighty  giants  standing  as  sentinels  over  this 
happy  home. 

The  interior  of  the  house  was  plain,  neat,  and  com- 
fortable, in  its  outfit.  The  walls  were  decorated  with 
French  lithographs  of  scenes  in  France.  In  one  of  the 
rooms  there  was  an  oil  painting  of  great  excellence  as 
a  work  of  art.  It  was  the  picture  of  a  French  officer  on 
horseback,  dashing  along  on  the  shore  of  a  sea.  In  the 
back  ground  was  a  perfect  representation  of  a  volcano, 
sending  forth  its  lurid  flames.  . 

The  person  represented  was  no  ordinary  personage. 
His  appearance  was  peculiarly  impressive.  And  the  lights 
and  shadows  of  the  burning  volcano  gave  the  whole  work 
a  cast  of  gloomy  grandeur. 

They  made  frequent  visits  to  New  Orleans  to  see  their 
friend,  Pierre  Lavasse,  and  a  very  special  kind  one  he 
had  been  to  the  brothers,  both  Francis  and  Claude. 

The  city  of  New  Orleans  was  very  much  indebted  for 
her  great  prosperity  to  the  enterprising  Frenchmen  who 
had  emigrated  there.  Every  commercial  city  of  France 
had  its  representatives  in  all  the  departments  of  commerce 
and  industry. 

Our  friend,  Pierre  Lavasse,  referred  to  in  a  former 
chapter,  and  the  friend  of  Captain  Smith,  had  been 
instrumental  in  procuring  this  plantation  for  the  brothers 
Harrold,  and  had  also  sold  them  a  negro  boy,  called 
Tom,  who  was  of  great  value  to  them  every  way. 

When  the  neighbors  failed  to  draw  from  either  Claude 
or  Francis  Harrold  where  they  came  from,  and  some  clue 


202 


EXILES  OF  LOUISIANA, 


to  their  former  history,  they  commenced  to  question  Tom 
on  the  subject.  * 

Tom  would  say,  "  I  cum  from  New  Orleans,  sar,  and 
dar  I  fus  met  massa  Harrold.  He  axed  me,  'Tom,  you 
go  wid  me  to  plantation  ? '  I  look  at  him  face,  and  I  says, 
'  Yes,  massa,  Tom  go  wid  you  sure.' " 

When  they  asked  Tom  where  he  came  from,  he  gave 
them  all  the  information  on  that  subject  desired. 

"I  cum  from  New  Orleans,  sar;  been  raised  dar. 
Belong  to  massa  Pierre  Lavasse.  One  day,  dis  long  ago, 
massa  Pierre,  he  say  to  me,  *  Tom,  you  be  one  good  boy, 
by  jingo,  and  he  say,  I  want  to  sell  you  Tom,  but  I  no 
sell  you  'cept  you  want  to  go  wid  de  man  what  want  you, 
Tom.*  Den  I  say, '  Who  am  de  man,  massa  Pierre  ? '  Den 
he  say,  '  massa  Harrold  am  de  man.'  Well,  den  I  says, 
*  massa,  him  all  right.  I  go  wid  massa  Harrold.*  So  you 
see  Tom  am  here." 

Tom  lived  here  with  perfect  equality,  as  far  as  comforts 
of  life  were  concerned.  His  yoke  was  easy,  and  his 
burdens  light,  but  no  man  knows  so  well  how  the  human 
soul  longs  to  be  released  from  bondage,  as  he  who  has 
been  enslaved.  And  how  the  heart  throbs  when  he  sees 
the  dawn  of  his  emancipation.  And  no  one  knows  the 
joys  of  liberty,  so  well  as  the  heart  that  has  felt  the 
warmth  of  its  generous  flame. 

If  Tom  had  even  been  emancipated  by  his  master 
Harrold,  he  would  not  have  left  him.  There  were 
thousands  of  negroes  who  fled  from  comfortable  homes 
and  kind  masters,  far  away  into  the  cold,  cheerless  climate 
of  Canada,  and  thus  rent  asunder  the  dearest  ties  that 
cling  to  the  human  heart,  the  love  of  home.  And  when 
far,  far  away,  their  hearts  were  ever  turning  to  that  dear 


LOUISIANA. 


203 


place  where  the  old  folks  stay.  You  may  think  it 
strange  they  should  leave  when  well  treated,  and  loved 
their  homes;  the  place  of  their  birth,  with  all  of  this 
attachment,  so  very  strong  and  natural  with  the  negro. 
The  cause  was  mainly  owing  to  the  dreadful  fate  that 
hangs  over  every  human  being  in  bondage. 

When  I  say  that  a  love  of  home,  kindred,  and  friends, 
is  natural  with  the  negro,  I  mean  to  be  understood  as 
asserting  that  no  people  in  this  world  are  more  strongly 
attached  to  the  place  of  their  birth,  or  have  more  love, 
attachment,  and  gratitude,  for  those  who  treat  them 
kindly,  than  the  negro  race. 

The  French  people,  as  a  class,  were  not  hard  task- 
masters, when  you  compare  them  with  the  emigrants  from 
the  Northern  States,  in  the  South. 

It  was  generally  conceded,  that  emigrants  from  the 
Northern  States  were  more  exacting,  and  cruel,  with  their 
slaves,  as  a  class,  than  the  native-born  slaveholder. 

But  it  is  a  joyful  thing  that  legalized  bondage  no  longer 
exists  in  any  State  in  the  Union.  Glad,  and  full  of  thanks, 
should  we  be  that  it  is  ended,  and  we  hope  forever. 

The  price  paid  for  this  emancipation,  however,  was 
great.  It  has  left  sad  and  mournful  memories  in 
thousands  of  once  happy  homes,  North  and  South.  The 
money  and  time  wasted  and  thrown  away,  was  nothing  in 
the  balance,  against  the  lives  of  thousands  of  noble, 
heroic  men,  who  fell  on  the  battle-fields. 

They  were  all  our  countrymen,  botli  North  and  South. 
Noble  hearts,  that  had  throbbed  in  unison,  at  the  very 
name  of  Bunker  Hill,  fell  in  battle  as  foes ;  engaged  the 
one  against  the  other,  in  deadly  strife.  It  was  brother 
slaying  brother.  Countrymen  against  countrymen.  It 
was  the  horrible,  ghastly  picture  of  national  suicide.     ^ 


m 


111 


I 


204 


EXILES    OF  LOUISIANA. 


It  is  vain  and  idle  to  talk  about  who  was  to  blame  for 
this  calamity. 

The  North  exercised  no  degree  of  charity  towards  the 
South,  and  the  South  became  frenzied  with  passion,  and 
rushed  madly  to  their  destruction. 

The  demagogues,  both  North  and  South,  actuated  by 
ambition,  absolutely  seized  these  wild  passions  of  the 
people  for  selfish  purposes,  and  led  them  into  war,  and 
disunion. 

There  never  was  a  time  when,  if  the  North  and  South 
had  have  acted  together  in  a  patriotic  and  charitable 
spirit,  and  taken  the  advice  of  such  men  as  Clay,  Webster, 
Lincoln,  and  Douglass,  the  Union  could  not  have  been 
preserved  in  peace,  and  the  gradual  emanci|:ation  of  the 
negro  secured  in  the  end. 

I  say  Lincoln,  because  he  never  was  in  favor,  in  prin- 
ciple, of  any  other  mode  of  emanripation,  except  gradual 
emancipation  on  the  basis  of  peace.  No  man  ever  heard 
him  utter  any  opinions  or  sentiments  that  were  calculated 
in  any  way  to  arouse  the  passions  of  hate,  or  enmity, 
against  any  section  of  the  country. 

And  yet  it  is  passing  strange  that  even  at  this  day  you 
will  find  men  of  great  and  commanding  talents,  for  base  and 
selfish  purposes,  still  striving  to  keep  alive  the  fires  of  hate, 
malice,  and  revenge.  And  some  of  them  think  that  recon- 
ciliation, charity,  and  patriotic  forbearance,  and  peace,  are 
of  far  less  consequence  than  securing  the  spoils  of  office, 
by  a  party  triumph. 

It  would  be  far  better  to  inform  the  people  of  this 
country  what  were  the  mistakes  made  that  produced  this 
terrible  loss  of  life.  What  were  the  mistakes  made  that 
have  postponed  peace  and  reconciliation,  and  have  preserved 


LOUISIANA. 


205 


the  Union,  only  in  name,  with  a  cold,  lifeless  form,  void 
of  heart  and  soul. 

In  future  times,  the  uncharitable  dealers  in  vituperation, 
North  and  South,  will  be  regarded  as  the  disturbers  of  the 
public  peace.  And  though,  perhaps  not  always  designedly, 
they  were,  in  fact  and  in  truth,  acting  as  absolute  enemies 
to  the  peace  and  prosperity  of  the  Union. 


III. 

The  war  of  1812  with  England  is  over.  The  conflict  was 
short  and  decisive.  The  victory  of  Andrew  Jackson,  over 
Packingham,  here  at  New  Orleans,  was  one  of  the  grandest 
achievements  in  our  history.  The  naval  engagements  were 
marked,  on  the  part  of  the  Yankee  sailor,  with  a  heroism 
unsurpassed. 

Captain  Ethan  Allen  Smith  had  done  what  he  said  he 
would.  He  placed  his  gallant  ship,  the  Lafayette,  on  a 
war  footing;  received  some  iron  dogs  from  the  govern- 
ment ;  took  Charley  Convors  as  first  lieutenant ;  entered 
the  service,  and  struck  many  a  valiant  blow  on  the  side 
of  justice  and  liberty.  The  war  over,  the  Lafayette  is 
again  engaged  in  legitimate  commerce. 

Our  good  old  friend,  Pierre  Lavasse,  is  still  in  New 
Orleans,  the  same  honest,  sincere,  open-hearted  French- 
man, as  when  first  we  saw  him  on  board  the  Lafayette,  greet- 
ing his  friend.  Captain  Ethan  Smith,  on  his  return  from 
the  Mediterranean.  They  still  indulged  a  little  in  their 
bumpers,  by  the  way  of  toasts  to  the  respective  flags 
of  the  United  States  and  France.  On  their  first  meet- 
ing and  last  parting,  th-y  were  not,  however,  intemperate 


\ 

s 


p 


;  1 


.s 


s ' 


i 
1   \ 


206 


EXILES  OF  LOUISIANA. 


in  their  habits.  Madame  Lavasse  was  still  the  kind, 
amiable  wife,  mother,  and  friend,  still  presiding,  with 
graceful  dignity,  over  the  old-fashioned  mansion  of 
Pierre  Lavasse.  ■ 

On  one  occasion,  when  Pierre  met  Captain  Smith,  he 
said  to  him,  "I  tell  you  Captain  Smit,  you'r  best  judge 
of  a  man  in  dese  United  States  sure,  by  jingo." 

"  I  really  believe  you'r  right,  Pierre.  When  I  see  a  man 
sailing  over  the  waters,  I  can  tell  if  he  will  answer  the 
helm  of  duty,  and  come  up  square  to  the  work  laid  out  for 
him  to  do.  Let  us  take  a  small  drink  to  the  health  ot 
these  Exiles  I  have  brought  over  the  waters  to  this  land 
of  liberty." 

"  I  will  drink  to  that  toast  sure,  my  best  friend,  Captain 
Smit.  But  let  me  tell  you  how  you  be  good  judge  of  man. 
Good  many  years  ago,  before  ze  war,  I  ask  you  to  get  me 
good  clerk." 

•'  Well,  Pierre,  did  I  not  get  him  for  you  ?  " 

"  Yes,  by  jingo ;  listen  !  You  git  me  good  clerk.  You 
git  de  United  States  good  soldier.  You  git  Pierre  Lavasse 
good  partner.  You  git  my  dear  daughter  Eva  a  good 
husband.  By  jingo.  Captain  Smit,  Charley  Convors  good 
for  everytings ;  best  boy  in  dis  town." 

"I  knew  it  when  I  recommended  him.  And  Charley 
and  Eva  are  married,  Pierre ;  well  done,  God  bless  them, 
Pierre !  And  now,  Pierre,  the  only  thing  I  regret  is,  that 
I  was  not  present  at  this  marriage.  But  Mrs.  Lavasse, 
Caroline,  Charley,  and  Eva,  are  all  well,  are  they  ? " 

"All  well.  Captain  Smit,  very  happy,  and  all  looking 
anxioin  for  our  old  friend,  Captain  Smit !  " 

"  Well,  Pierre,  we  must  drink  the  health  of  Charley  and 
Eva,  for  it  is  the  best  news  I  have  heard  for  some  time." 


m 


FRANCISCO. 


207 


"  We  feel  indebted  to  our  good  friend,  the  captain,  for 
this,  and  I  send  the  boy  and  carriage  down  to  the  ship  for 
you  to  come  to  mansion  and  stay  with  us  a§  usual." 

"  Thank  you,  Pierre ;  thank  you.  I  will  avail  myself 
of  the  great  pleasure  of  spending  a  large  portion  of  my 
time  with  your  amiable  and  happy  family." 


IV. 

Francisco. 

It  is  now  far  advanced  in  the  year  18 16.  Claude 
Harrold  is  still  living  on  his  little  plantation,  where 
everything  is  cheerful  and  blooming  with  industry,  econ- 
omy, and  thrift.  The*  faithful  Tom  is  still  with  him,  and 
strongly  attached  to  his  benevolent  master.  Francis  is  no 
longer  with  him,  and  he  has  in  his  place  his  mother  and 
wife.  The  neighbors  no  longer  ask  the  question,  "  Why 
is  such  a  good  man  so  often  sad  and  sorrowful  ?  " 

They  say  now,  that  it  is  strange  he  should  have  lived 
so  long  without  them,  and  as  this  subject  is  never  intro- 
duced by  Claude  himself,  it  has  passed  away  with  the 
years  that  have  gone. 

What  had  become  of  Francis,  was  a  question  that  was 
often  asked.  This  question  was  generally  answered  by 
the  knowing  ones  in  this  way  : —  ., 

.  "About  a  year  ago  there  came  to  the  city  of  New 
Orleans,  with  Captain  Smith,  a  strange  looking  Italian 
nobleman,  whose  general  appearance  indicated  either  in- 
sanity, or  a  remarkable  degree  of  eccentricity  of  char- 
acter.    He  had  with  him  an  intelligent,  smart  man,  who 


i:>\ 


208 


EXILES   OF  LOUISIANA. 


acted  as  secretary,  companion,  and  servant.  There  was  no 
lack  of  money,  and  he  had  a  perfect  passion  for  doing 
deeds  of  kindness  and  charity.  No  one  knew  his  name, 
and  ha  was  designated  as  the  strange  Italian  count.  The 
name  of  his  companion  was  Calvetti.  They  were  well 
acquainted  with  Pierre  Lavasse,  and  Charley  Convors, 
and  Claude  Harrold.  It  was  stated  that  when  this 
strange  Italian  count  left  the  city  of  New  Orleans  on  the 
Lafayette,  commanded  by  Captain  Smith,  Francis,  Claude's 
brother,  went  with  them  on  the  same  vessel,  but  where 
he  or  the  count  went,  no  one  knew,  or  by  the  most  diligent 
curiosity  could  ever  find  out." 

Questions  were  sometimes  asked  Claude  where  his 
brother  had  gone,  and  he  answered  by  saying  that  Francis 
was  a  young  man,  and  had  gone  out  into  the  world  to  seek 
his  fortune. 

There  were  no  great  changes  made  in  this  pleasant 
home  as  to  style  or  adornment.  Everything  was  neat, 
tidy,  and  had  a  happy  look. 

As  to  inmates,  the  change  was  remarkable.  An  elderly 
lady,  with  a  pleasant,  neat  appearance  was  there,  re- 
presented as  the  mother  of  Claude  and  Francis. 

There  was  also  a  middle-aged  lady,  with  a  sweet,  plain- 
tive smile  on  her  face,  said  to  be  the  wife  of  Claude 
Harrold.  The  joy  of  the  mother  and  wife  appeared  to  be 
in  their  love  and  devotion  to  Claude.  ^ 

Negro  Tom  was  delighted  with  his  old  missus,  and  the 
young  missus.  This  sable  son  of  Africa,  stood  ready  at 
all  times,  with  the  gratitude  of  his  race,  to  do  or  to  make 
any  sacrifice  for  their  comfort  and  happiness.  Tom  was 
often  sent  to  New  Orleans  for  supplies  for  the  house,  and 
he  never  failed  to  go  to  the  Pierre  Lavasse  mansion,  to  see 
his  good  old  masser  and  missus. 


FRANCISCO. 


!og 


The  lives  of  those  who  dwell  in  this  cottage  was  like 
a  long  summer  day,  full  of  joy  and  sunlight,  with  perfect 
peace.  Nothing  occurred  to  disturb  this  serene  and  quiet 
mode  of  life,  until  about  the  year  1825  or  '26. 

Well  on  towards  night-fall,  Tom  came  into  the  cottage 
all  excitement  and  alarm.  The  white  of  his  expanded  eye- 
lids gave  him  a  look  of  terror. 

"Mass  Claude,"  he  said,  "I  believe  de  harry  cane  is 
comin',  sure." 

"  Why  do  you  think  so,  Tom,"  said  Claude. 

"  I  tell  you,  massa,  de  sea  am  gone  up  in  the  sky,  and 
de  sky  am  green  as  the  sea.  De  sun  am  gone  away 
behind  de  big  green  sky ,  der  am  no  black  clouds  massa, 
and  it  am  so  berry  still  you  can  hear  a  pin  drop.  By  and 
by  you  hear  him  roar  ober  in  de  woods  yonder ;  den  he 
bery  soon  bust  up  eberyting.  Down  come  de  cotton,  de 
corn,  and  de  big  trees,  and  maybe  de  house.  Hope  not 
massa.     Listen  massa,  hear  him  comin'." 

Claude  looked  at  the  sky,  and  as  Tom  said,  the  sky  had 
the  strange,  peculiar  tint  and  appearance  of  the  ocean  at 
rest,  with  a  deep,  blue,  greenish  cast.  The  setting  sun 
was  concealed,  not  in  the  usual  appearance  of  a  clouded 
sky,  with  the  storm  outlined ;  but  the  whole  sky  was  cov- 
ered with  this  peculiar  tint. 

He  listened,  and  as  Tom  had  said,  he  heard  distinctly 
over  the  woods,  and  off  in  the  west  a  moaning  sound,  that 
was  evidently  growing  louder,  and  drawing  nearer. 

A  frightened  deer  came  out  of  the  forest,  pursued  by 
the  huntsman's  eager  hounds ;  passed  through  the  field, 
and  fled  towards  the  distant  bayou ;  and  night  and  dark- 
ness came,  and  with  them  the  howling  tempest.  It  was  as 
if  the  demon  of  the   air  had  let   loose   his  armed  myr- 


2IO 


EXILES  OF  LOUISIANA. 


midons  commanding  them  to  destroy  and  desolate  the 
earth.  The  angry^  winds  swept  the  fields,  destroyed  the 
promise  of  harvest,  and  dashed  to  the  earth  at  times 
the  majestic  forest  trees.  The  rain  fell  in  torrents.  The 
thunder  rolled,  and  the  lightning's  lurid  flash  blazed 
athwart  the  sky. 

Hark !  a  cry  for  help !  Ah,  Claude  Harrold,  little  do 
you  at  this  moment  dream  of  the  loved  one,  who,  amidst 
this  beating  storm,  calls  on  you  for  help  !  Never,  never  in 
your  life  will  you  forget  that  cry  for  help  !  Little  do  you 
dream  that  for  the  one  who  cries  "  Save  me,  or  I  perish ! " 
you  would  gladly  quit  fortune,  life,  and  everything  on 
earth,  but  honor,  to  save  him  from  death.  The  quick 
discernment  of  the  slave  Tom  was  the  first  to  hear,  even 
above  the  roar  of  the  wild  storm,  that  agonizing  cry  for 
help.  And  little  did  he  thinlc  that  from  that  moment 
destiny  had  decreed,  that  the  chains  of  bondage  had 
fallen  from  his  limbs,  and  that  no  man  on  earth  could  call 
him  slave  again. 

It  was  the  hour  of  his  emancipation.  He  says,  "  Masser 
Harrold,  I  hear  some  one  out  yonder  towards  de  wood  cry 
for  help." 

"  Is  it  possible,  Tom,  that  any  poor  unfortunate  can  be 
out  in  such  a  tempest? " 

He  listened,  and  above  the  noise  of  the  fearful  storm, 
he  heard  a  wailing  cry  for  help.  Claude  had  by  accident 
set  a  light  in  the  window  looking  out  towards  the  forest, 
and  the  lost  stranger  who  cried  for  help,  had  been  long 
and  bravely  trying  to  reach  this  light  in  the  window,  to 
him  so  full  of  hope  in  this  hour  of  peril. 

Claude  looked  out  of  the  window,  and  when  the  flash 
of  lightning  was  vivid  anid  bright,  he  saw  a  human  beang 


THE  FLOWER-GIRL, 


211 


Struggling  with  the  elements  for  the  last  time,  for  while  he 
looked  the  man  fell  forward  on  his  face,  apparently  ex- 
hausted. Claude,  quick  as  thought,  caught  an  object  in 
the  forest  to  mark  the  line  where  he  fell.  He  and  Tom 
rushed  to  the  place,  regardless  of  the  elements  that 
appeared  to  be  engaged  in  a  war  of  destruction.  They 
reached  him,  and  found  him  exhausted  and  helpless,  and 
apparently  lifeless.  Soon  he  was  in  the  arms  of  these 
two  stout,  brave  men,  and  was  carried  safely  and  tenderly 
to  the  place  of  refuge,  where  kind  hearts  would  watch 
over  him  with  unceasing  care,  until  he  was  warmed  back 
into  life,  hope,  and  joy. 

The  life  of  the  hunter  is  saved,  and  it  is  hoped  that  the 
poor  fleeing  deer  has  escaped  the  fangs  of  the  ruthless 
pursuing  hounds. 

The  stranger  was  so  exhausted  in  his  efforts  to  reach  the 
cottage  that  he  was  near  his  last  hour,  and  far  from  being 
conscious  of  where  he  was,  or  what  had  happened.  His 
clothing  was  completely  saturated  with  the  drenching  rain. 
Claude,  with  the  aid  of  Tom,  soon  had  him  laid  on  a  soft 
couch  with  dry  clothing.  Then  came  the  tender,  loving 
charge  of  the  good  old  mother,  and  the  wife,  so  true,  so 
loving,  with  a  heart  that  had  through  years  and  years 
of  service,  with  faithful  charity  for  all  who  suffered  in  mis- 
fortune, for  all  whose  sad  life  appealed  for  pity  and  com- 
passion. 

Soon  it  was  evident  that  good  nursing  was  restoring  him 
to  life,  animation,  and  consciousness.  With  gentle  slumber, 
and  sweet  repose  and  quiet,  and  the  stranger  passed  the 
night,  and  did  not  awake  until  the  morning  sun  with 
golden  beams,  proclaimed  the  glad  tidings  that  the  slorm 
had  ended,  and  once  more  there  was  peace  on  earth. 


e* 


%  ?i 


213 


EXILES  OF  LOUISIANA. 


Ir 


m\ 


% 


mi  ,. 


BOOK  XIV. 

PALACE  VILANI. 

I. 

The  Flower-Girl. 

When  Phidias  wrought  out  of  the  dull  marble,  the  won- 
derful figure  of  the  Olympian  Jupiter,  he  made  a  fame  that 
was  imperishable.  The  inspiration  of  his  exalted  genius 
gave  immortality  to  every  touch  of  his  supreme  skill.  He 
worked  far  better  than  he  knew. 

Iphi,  the  Greek  flower  girl,  without  ambition,  without 
pride,  had  become  the  absolute  mistress  of  the  Vilani  pal- 
ace. Not  by  force  of  human  genius,  but  by  that  power, 
born  of  truth  and  love,  crowned  with  the  never-fading 
laurels  of  victory. 

She  had  dispelled  the  sombre  shadows  of  evil  that  had 
in  former  years  gathered  around  this  household.  She  had 
saved  a  soul  that  was  on  the  verge  of  the  abyss.  She  had 
saved  a  human  being  from  the  ghastly  death  of  the  gibbet, 
and  placed  her  in  the  arms  of  the  angels  of  charity  and 
mercy,  who  hailed  her  as  a  new  born  sister,  and  breathed 
into  her  soul  the  joy  of  an  immortal  life.  She  wrought 
better  than  she  knew. 

It  was  not  like  the  triumph  of  the  genius  of  art  or  of 
V.  ar ;  it  was  the  triumph  of  virtue,  working  by  the  inspira- 
tion of  the  Infinite  on  a  human  soul  on  earth,  dwelling  in 
accord  with  his  attributes  of  love  and  mercy. 


I 


THE  INSANE  COUNT'S  RETURN.    Pago  215. 


?# 


'■*>^ 


THE  FLOWER-GIRL. 


215 


About  the  period  of  time  that  Uncle  Louis  had  received 
a  letter  from  Paul  Lorraine,  well  on  towards  the  close  of 
day,  the  Lady  Countess  De  Vilani  and  Iphi,  were  on  the 
grand  portico  of  the  palace,  enjoying  the  delightful  breeze 
wafted  from  the  sea.  T'he  countess  was  seated  on  a  capa- 
cious arm-chair,  fashioned  somewhat  after  the  seat  Phidias 
had  carved  for  his  Grecian  Jupiter.  Iphi  was  standing 
leaning  with  an  arm  resting  gently  on  the  shoulder  of  the 
countess,  occasionally  looking  out  on  the  glad  waters  with 
golden,  rippling  lights,  and  azure  shadows ;  again  upon 
the  happy,  jo)rful  Countess  De  Vilani,  whom  she  loved  so 
well.  She  had  the  heaven-born  tenderness  of  a  mother's 
love.  The  lost  had  been  found.  The  sea  of  despair  had 
thrown  up  upon  its  shining  shore  the  priceless  pearl  that 
vice  had  thrown  into  its  dark  waters.  Iphi's  love  was  like 
the  love  of  the  good-hearted  father,  who  killed  the  fatted 
calf  for  the  returning  prodigal,  coming  back  to  the  hearth 
and  home  of  his  childhood  years. 

The  faith,  hope,  and  charity,  that  now  glowed  upon  the 
classic  features  of  the  countess,  made  her  charming.  The 
base  flatterers,  who  in  her  days  of  pride  and  ambition, 
had  bowed  to  her  the  knee  of  heartless  praise  and  adula- 
tion, had  departed  far  away  in  the  distance,  and  knew  her 
not ;  while  to  the  good,  the  true,  and  the  virtuous,  she  was 
as  a  priceless  jewel  that  had  been  returned  to  its  casket. 

Had  Angelo  carved  from  marble  the  image  of  Iphi, 
with  her  face  so  radiant  with  love  for  her  dear  countess, 
the  work  of  art  would  have  passed  down  through  the  com- 
ing ages  as  the  poetic  ideal  of  the  good  and  the  beautiful. 

With  joy,  Iphi  exclaimed,  "  Oh,  my  dear  lady !  I  see 
such  a  beautiful  ship  coming  into  the  harbor.  It  has  such 
a  beautiful  flag  on  the  top-gallant  mast.  It  must  be  a  good 
ship,  my  lady,  for  it  sails  so  proudly  over  the  waters.    I 


i 


i. 


2l6 


EXILES  OF  LOUISIANA. 


\ 


\ 


will  go  get  the  large  telescope,  and  will  make  out  what  is 
the  name  of  the  ship,  and  the  country  of  the  flag." 

"  Well,  dear  Iphi,  just  as  you  please,"  said  the  countess. 

Soon  Iphi  returned,  arranged  the  telescope,  and  fixed  it 
upo'^  the  advancing  ship. 

"  My  lady,"  exclaimed  Iphi.  "  It  has  thirteen  stars  on 
an  azure  field,  on  the  upper  corner,  next  the  staff." 

"  What  else  is  there  on  the  flag  ? "  asked  the  countess. 

"  It  has  stripes  running  horizontally,  alternating  with 
red,  white,  and  blue.  And,  my  lady,  the  flag  is  so  beauti- 
ful !  The  ship  moves  along  on  the  waters  so  gracefully 
with  its  flag  of  shining  stars.  It  looks  like  a  ship  of  dream- 
land, coming  out  of  the  sky  upon  the  joyful,  dancing 
waters,  of  the  sea." 

"  Dearest  Iphi,  it  is  the  flag  of  the  young  Republic  across 
the  western  sea.  Each  star  represents  a  state.  The  red, 
the  white,  and  the  blue,  are  emblems  of  liberty,  equality, 
and  fraternity.  The  stripes,  or  bands,  are  emblems  of 
cruel  oppression.  The  brave  sons  of  this  land  of  freedom, 
assembled  together  as  brothers  upon  the  broad  plan  of 
equality  and  said  to  one  another,  *  We  will  be  free.  No 
longer  shall  the  tyrant  rule  over  us;  we  will  strike  until 
every  band  is  riven.  Our  battle-cry,  liberty  or  death.' 
They  were  victorious,  and  now,  instead  of  stripes  and 
bondage,  they  are  free  and  among  the  constellation  of 
nations.     These  states,  are  in  truth,  stars." 

"  Oh,  my  lady,"  exclaimed  Iphi,  "  is  that  not  beautiful. 
This  then  is  the  land  of  the  star-spangled  banner.  *  The 
land  C  the  free  and  the  home  of  the  breve.'  Surely  God 
must  have  been  with  them,  when  they  were  so  weak  and 
helpless,  and  struggling  with  the  most  powerful  nation  in 
the  world." 


^ 

THE-FLOWER  GIRL. 

217 

"  Yes,  dearest  Iphi,  God  was  ever  present  with  them  and 
their  commander  and  chief,  Washington.  Can  you  tell  the 
name  of  the  ship  ? " 

"  I  will  look,  my  lady,  and  as  the  ship  has  got  much 
nearer  to  us,  I  think  I  can  find  the  name." 

After  a  little  time,  Iphi  discovered  the  name  on  a 
streamer  pendant  from  the  same  mast  to  which  was  fas- 
tened the  flag.    It  read,  "The  Lafayette  of  New  Orleans." 

"My  lady,"  exclaimed  Iphi,  "the  ship  is  called  'The 
Lafayette  of  New  Orleans.'  " 

"  That  is  so  appropriate,  Iphi,  it  is  in  honor  of  that 
brave  and  good  man  who  went  from  France  to  those  States 
with  an  army  of  Frenchmen,  to  assist  them  in  their  strug- 
gle for  liberty." 

"  Then,  my  lady,  they  must  love  and  honor  Lafayette 
and  France,  for  such  noble,  generous  aid,  in  the  hour  of 
their  great  adversity." 

"  They  do  honor  Lafayette,  and  such  noble  and  brave 
pcojjle  are  always  grateful.  Whenever  the  artists  of  Italy 
paint  a  picture,  or  carve  a  statue  of  Washingtoii,  they 
make  one  for  Lafayette,  for  they  were  twin  brothers  in  the 
cause  of  American  liberty." 

"  Oh,  my  lady,  you  have  made  me  love  that  country  so 
much.  I  believe  it  is  designed  as  an  asylum  for  the  op- 
pressed of  every  land.  How  I  would  like  to  go  there  and 
see  those  people,  whose  actions  have  been  so  glorious." 

"Yes,  Iphi,  this  Republic  is  grand  and  glorious.  It  has 
a  golden  promise  of  greatness  far  beyond,  and  brighter 
than  the  ancient  republics  of  Greece  and  Rome,  Their 
government  to-day,  as  far  as  a  government  can  make 
mortal  man  feel  that  he  is  a  man,  and  exalt  him  to  the 
proud  position  of  a  perfect  freemen  is  far,  very  far  ahead 


I: 


2l8 


EXILES   OF  LOUISIANA. 


of  any  government  that  has  yet  appeared  on  earth.  It 
has  fillod  the  whole  western  sky  with  radiant  splendor. 
The  good  and  the  true  everywhere,  in  every  clime  and 
country  hail  it  as  the  morning  star  of  promise  to  all 
mankind ;  that  the  day  of  complete  redemption  from 
all  and  every  kind  of  bondage  has  been  inaugurated  on 
earth." 

Iphi  threw  her  arms  around  the  neck  of  the  countess, 
exclaiming,  "  Oh,  my  lady,  how  I  love  you  for  these  noble 
words.  How  I  thank  our  heavenly  Father  that  you  are 
now  so  true  and  good,  and  that  you  have  gifts  of  beauty, 
talent,  and  generous  love,  and  mercy  for  mankind." 

The  countess  kissed  the  cheek  of  the  flower-girl,  and 
for  an  instant   tears  of  gratitude  sparkled  in  her  eyes. 

"  I  have  just  thought  of  it,  Iphi ;  you  recollect  that 
Alonzo  has  been  telling  us  how  finely  Francisco  and  Cal- 
vetti  have  been  getting  along,  travelling  all  through  the 
United  States,  and  that  he  could  not  tell  what  moment 
they  would  come  home  and  settle  down  in  retirement,  and 
further,  that  Francisco  was  much  improved  since  he  left 
Leghorn,  and  who  knows  but  they  may  be  on  this  very  ship 
that  has  just  arrived  in  the  harbor.  I  will  take  the  tele- 
scope, dear  Iphi,  and  see  if  I  can  determine  anything  fur- 
ther about  this  American  ship,  that  has  been  so  very  inter- 
esting to  us  both."  The  countess  took  the  glass,  and 
after  examining  the  vessel  for  a  little  time,  she  said  to 
Iphi,  "  She  has  cast  anchor."  The  boat  is  lowered,  and 
the  passengers  are  preparing  to  go  ashore.  I  see  the  cap- 
tain of  the  vessel,  with  the  dress  of  an  American  sea-cap- 
tain. He  is  a  large,  commanding  man  in  person,  and 
looks  like  a  brave,  noble  man ;  fit  representative  of  such 
a  people  as  the  Americans.     I  see  a  passenger  descending 


THE  FLOWER  GIRL. 


219 


to  the  boat ;  mercy !  I  believe  it  is  Francisco  Vilani,  and 
there  standing  in  the  boat  to  receive  him  is  Calvetti. 
Is  it  not  strange.  There  is  a  third  man  whom  I  cannot  rec- 
ognize, standing  beside  Calvetti.  You  take  the  glass,  Iphi, 
and  see  if  you  can  make  out  who  this  stranger  is,  who  is 
evidently  a  companion  of  Francisco  and  Calvetti." 

Iphi  took  the  glass,  raised  it  to  the  proper  position. 
"  My  dearest  lady,  I  see  the  strange-looking  man  who 
came  to  our  cottage  to  plead  with  me  to  come  to  the  pal- 
ace, and  dwell  with  the  Lady  Verono,  to  be  to  her  a  sister 
and  friend.  Although,  my  lady,  it  is  many  years  ago,  yet 
I  readily  recognize  him  as  the  person." 

"  And  oh,  my  dearest  Iphi,  how  I  do  thank  thee  and 
him,  that  you  made  the  promise  and  have  kept  it  so  well." 

"  And,  dear  lady,"  said  Iphi,  '*  God  knows  you  have 
more  than  paid  me,  by  love  and  affection,  for  any  favor  I 
may  have  bestowed  on  you." 

Iphi  then  turned  the  glass  on  the  stranger.  Oh,  how 
unspeakable  was  the  joy  in  Iphi's  heart,  when  she  recog- 
nized in  the  stranger,  her  long  loved,  long  mourned,  long 
lost  Jean.  It  seemed  to  her  that  God  spoke  and  said  to 
her,  Iphi,  did  I  not  tell  thee  in  the  hours  of  thy  deep 
affliction,  that  I  would  never  forsake  thee,  and  that  it 
should  ever  be  well  with  thee  and  thine .? 

Iphi's  heart  was  so  full  that  she  could  say  nothing.  She 
sank  upon  the  seat,  buried  her  face  in  her  hands,  and  tears 
of  joy  relieved  the  deep  emotion- of  her  heart. 

The  Lady  Countess  was  bewildered  and  amazed.  She 
bxclaimed,  "Oh,  dearest  Iphi,  answer  me,  pray  tell  me, 
my  beloved,  what  means  it  ? " 

The  Lady  Countess  caught  the  words,  "  It  is  my  Jean, 
my  dear,  long-lost  Jean." 


I 


t 

I 


tv  ! 


220 


EXILES  OE  LOUISIANA. 


Then  she  knew  all,  saw  it  all.  She  threw  her  arms 
around  Iphi  and  said,  "  Iphi,  has  not  our  Father  in  heaven 
been  good  to  us  ? " 


II. 


K"::V^" 


Captain  Ethan  Smith. 

It  was  the  good  ship  Lafayette,  with  our  friend.  Captain 
Ethan  Allen  Smith.  When  the  ship  was  approaching  the 
harbor  of  Leghorn,  Frank  Harrold,  whom  Iphi  had  recog- 
nized as  her  long-lost  Jean,  was  standing  on  the  forecastle 
deck,  talking  to  Captain  Smith. 

"Well,  my  dear  boy,  here  we  are  back  to  Leghorn," 
said  the  captain,  to  Frank ;  "  some  changes  have  taKcn 
place  since  you  and  I  sailed  out  of  this  harbor.  The 
crazy  count  has  told  me  all  about  the  noble  girl,  Frank, 
you  left  behind  you,  and  we  have  fixed  up  things  nicely  for 
you.  By  Moses,  Frank,  she  is  equal  to  the  best  Vermont 
girl  that  can  be  produced.  I  am  proud  of  you,  Frank, 
and  I  am  proud  of  your  girl,  she  is  the  genuine  stuff, 
Frank,  I  will  stand  to  you  and  her  all  my  born  days.  You 
see,  P'rank,  the  count,  and  his  man  Friday,  and  myself, 
have  fixed  all  this  in  our  own  way,  my  boy,  and  never  took 
your  advice."  "  '  ' 

"Oh,  my  dear  friend,"  said  Frank,  "you  have  done  so 
much  for  me,  and  for  my  brother  Claude,  how  can  I  ever 
repay  you  ? "  - 

"  Frank,  you  are  at  the  old  story ;  never  can  pay  me. 
What  pay  do  I  want  my  boy  ?  Nothing  Frank,  nothing. 
Ever  since  that  night,  Frank,  you  remember  my  boy — not 


CAPTAIN  ETHAN  SMITH. 


221 


very  far  from  here  —  you  have  taken  hold  of  my  old 
weather-beaten  heart  right  along." 

"  My  dearest  and  best  friend,"  said  Frank,  "  I  thank 
you  so  for  your  kindness.     I  do  not  know  —  " 

"  Stop  !  stop  Frank  !  "  said  the  captain ;  "  don't  say  that 
word  again,  about  pay ;  hold  up.  By  Moses,  Frank,  you 
have  paid  me  a  thousand  times,  by  filling  my  old  weather- 
beaten  heart  full  of  love  for  you,  my  boy, 

'*  Now,  Frank,  listen  here ;  this  is  the  conspiracy  formed 
against  you.  Before  this  ship  leaves  this  place,  up  in  that 
palace  there  you  are  to  marry  the  best,  the  prettiest  girl  in 
all  Italy.  By  Moses,  that  is  the  long  and  the  short  of  the 
yarn.  Frank  Harrold,  in  connection  with  Pierre  Lavasse 
&  Co.,  of  New  Orleans,  will  establish  a  Commission  and 
Forwarding  House  in  Leghorn,  to  run  in  connection  with 
the  New  Orleans  House.  This  craft  will  run  in  connec- 
tion with  these  two  houses,  besides  a  new  craft  that  is  on 
the  stocks  at  New  Orleans.  She  will  be  a  spanker.  Do 
you  know  what  her  name  will  be,  my  boy  ? " 

"No,  my  best  friend,"  said  Frank;  "surely  I  do  not." 

"Well,  Frank,  she  is  already  named  *Iphi;'  do  you 
understand,  my  boy?  It  is  all  fixed,  Pierre,  Claude, 
count,  and  his  cashier,  are  all  in  for  it,  and  so  is 
Charley." 

"My  dear  friend,  I  am  so  thankful  to  you  for  your 
ceaseless  kindness  to  me." 

"That  is  all  right,  Frank,  I  know  all  about  that,  yon 
know  I  do,  but  don't  say  pay  any  more,  as  if  I  was 
selling  favors  as  a  merchant  buys  and  sells  goods.  I  do 
not  want  any  pay ;  would  not  take  any  pay,  Frank.  You 
see,  Frank,  I  have  no  kin  in  this  world  living ;  all  gone. 
I  love  my  country,  the  sea,  and  my  three  boys ;  you  know, 


4: 


'm 


■4 


I 


if 


222 


EXILES    OF  LOCriSIAAA. 


Frank,  what  I  mean  ;  yes,  you  will  marry  the  pretty  girl, 
live  here  in  Leghorn,  right  in  the  big  palace,  I  will  travel 
the  sea,  with  my  pet  children  at  each  end  of  the  voyage  ; 
here  I  will  have  Frank  and  Iphi,  over  yonder  I  will  have, 
—  you  know  Frank,  -  Charley  and  Eva,  Claude  and  wife, 
do  you  see,  my  boy  ?  won't  that  be  joyful  ?  to  have  my 
old  weather-beaten  heart  so  full  of  love  for  my  adopted 
children?  Now  and  then  we  can  take  sea  voyages  for 
pleasure  and  amusement,  and  this  old  tar  will  close  his 
days  full  of  happiness,  until  he  slides  over  the  vessel  into 
the  deep,  deep  sea  to  his  final  rest." 

"My  dearest  friend,  your  ever}'  wish  shall  be  granted. 
I  will  be  guided  in  all  things,  to  render  you  happy." 

Calvetti  stepped  up  to  Captain  Smith  and  said,  "  Mon- 
sieur Captain,  the  count  go  along  with  me  to  the  palace, 
enter  Alonzo's  apartment  by  his  own  way.  I  will  go  with 
him  and  prepare  the  way  for  your  reception." 

"  Sensible  to  the  last,  my  noble  Calvetti ;  humor  the 
count  by  all  ineans.  When  you  humor  him  and  let  him 
have  his  own  way,  he  acts  and  talks  as  sensible  as  any  one ; 
all  right.  Calvetti,  humor  the  count,  he  has  more  good 
sense  than  two-thirds  of  the  people  who  call  him  insane ; 
that  he  has.  I  have  always  noticed  that  he  loves  freedom 
of  action,  or  in  other  words,  he  loves  liberty,  and  I  am 
thinking,  if  he  had  have  had  liberty,  and  social  intercourse 
in  his  youth,  he  would  have  had  more  sense,  and  more 
genuine  manhood  than  the  men  who  kept  him  confined 
to  brood  over  his  misfortune." 

It  was  well  on  towards  night,  and  it  was  concluded  that 
they  would  all  go  ashore,  —  Francisco  and  Calvetti,  to  the 
palace,  and  Captain  Smith  and  Frank,  would  return  on 
ship  board,  and  in  the  morning,  call  on  the  inmates  of  the 
palace. 


CAPTAIN  ETHAN  SMITH. 


223 


The  plain  seaman,  Captain  Smith,  was  embarrassed 
with  the  idea  that  he  was  going  to  pay  his  address  to  an 
actual  countess,  when  he  had  never  spoken  to  one. 

Servants  were  waiting  for  them  at  the  gate,  and  at  the 
entrance  into  the  grand  hall,  from  the  portico.  Alonzo 
and  the  countess  were  ready  to  receive  them  in  the  draw- 
ing-room. Alonzo  advanced,  and  extended  his  hand  to 
tiie  captain  and  Frank,  in  the  most  kind  and  cordial 
manner,  with  a  heartfelt  welcome. 

The  captain  seeing  that  a  countess  was  just  like  other 
very  pretty  women,  stepped  towards  her  and  said,  "  Noble 
lady,  I  am  Captain  Ethan  Smith,  of  the  ship  Lafayette." 

"  And  my  friend,"  said  the  countess ;  "  I  know  you  well, 
you  are  most  welcome  to  this  house.  Your  good  ship 
carries  that  beautiful  flag,  the  stars  and  stripes;  ensign 
of  the  grandest  nation  in  the  world.  No  one  can  be  more 
welcome,  here  in  this  house,  than  you.  Captain  Smith." 

"Madam,"  said  Captain  Smith,  "you  are,  perhaps,  too 
complimentary  to  an  humble,  rough  seaman.  But  1  thank 
you  a  thousand  times  for  the  compliment  you  pay  my  dear 
country  and  her  flag." 

"  Never  mind.  Captain  Smith,  we  all  know  you  are  a 
good  friend ;  Francisco,  Calvetti,  and  Alonzo  here,  have 
told  us  about  your  kindness  and  generosity,  and  we  are  all 
as  happy  to  see  you  as  if  it  were  an  old  acquaintance.  And 
this  young  gentleman,  is  our  dear,  long-lost  Jean.  There 
is  a  noble,  true  heart  in  this  house,  that  will  welcome  Jean 
with  a  joy  that  is  unutterable." 

The  Countess  De  Vilani  opened  the  large  folding  door 
to  the  adjoining  apartment,  and  Iphi,  dressed  in  the  plain- 
est, neatest  manner,  appeared  as  beautiful  and  sweet  as  the 
fresh-blown  rose  with  its  radiant  beauty.     She  was  the  per- 


M 


iii 


/ 


224 


EXILES   OF  LOUISIANA. 


sonification  of  nature's  harmony  and  perfect  simplicity. 
Every  one  who  saw  her,  mentally  exclaimed,  "  Is  she  not 
beautiful?" 

Her  face  was  glowing  with  perfect  joy.  Jean  moved 
towards  her.  Iphi  saw  no  one  in  the  room  except  this  long- 
lost  idol  of  her  heart.  She  laid  her  hand  upon  his  slioul- 
de/,  and  with  a  smile  of  love  in  her  bright,  beaming  eyes, 
aid  playing  upon  her  sweet  lips,  said,  "It  is  indeed,  my 
beloved,  my  long-lost,  long-mourned,  Jean.  My  best  be- 
loved, has  not  God  been  good  to  you  and  me,  in  the  long 
sad  years  that  have  passed  away,  thus  to  unite  us  again  on 
earth,  that  we  may  journey  together  to  that  better  world, 
in  the  future." 

"  Dearest  Iphi,  God  alone  knows  how  thankful  I  am  for 
the  love  of  so  true  a  heart  as  thine."  And  he  kissed  from 
her  cheek,  the  tear  of  joy  that  glistened  there,  as  the  em- 
blem of  the  purity  of  her  love  and  her  gratitude  for  the 
supreme  happiness  of  this  moment. 

Captain  Smith  could  not  restrain  himself,  he  was  so  much 
overjoyed  with  the  appearance  of  Frank's  pretty  girl,  —  as 
he  called  her  —  that  he  came  forward,  grasped  her  hand, 
and  said,  "  Frank  is  my  son,  you  are  my  daughter,  you  are 
for  all  the  world  just  like  a  very  pretty  American  girl, 
you  are,  by  Mos  —  yes,  that  is  a  fact,  and  I  am  going  to 
have  a  kiss,  Iphi,  and  I  don't  care  the  snap  of  my  finger 
if  Frank  does  get  jealous  of  me." 

Frank  replied  by  saying,  "  My  dear  friend,  if  you  only 
knew  the  fine  things  that  Francisco  and  Calvetti  have  been 
telling  Iphi  and  the  countess  about  your  kindness  and 
generosity,  to  all  their  friends,  you  would  see  that  I  have 
more  cause  to  be  jealous  than  you  are  aware  of." 

"  Really,  my  boy,"  said  the  captain,  "  you  have  talked 


\ 


CAPTAIN  ETHAN  SMITH, 


225 


so  much  to  me  about  Iphi,  that  I  was  in  love  with  her  be- 
fore I  saw  her." 

"  Iphi,  I  have  built  a  new  ship,  larger  and  better  every 
way  than  the  •  Lafayette.'  And  what  name  do  you  sup- 
pose I  have  given  this  fine  ship  ?  " 

"  My  dear  friend,  of  course  I  cannot  tell." 

"  I  have  named  her  '  Iphi,  of  Leghorn,'  after  the  best 
and  prettiest  girl  in  all  Italy,  by  Mos  —  yes  that  is  her 
name." 

"  And  this  new  ship  you  have  built  and  called  after  me, 
will  carry  the  stars  and  stripes ;  what  an  honor  you  have 
paid  me,  our  good  friend." 

'  Yes,  Iphi,  she  will  ever  carry  aloft  the  starry  banner,  and 
never  shall  that  flag  be  taken  down  by  the  hands  of  an 
American  sailor  at  the  bidding  or  command  of  an  enemy. 
They  may  sink  her  with  shot  and  shell,  but  flag  and  ship 
go  down  together." 

"  Oh,  I  am  full  of  thanks  to  you  for  your  kindness  to 
our  dear  friends,  Captain.  I  have  in  the  last  few  hours 
learned  all  about  your  noble,  generous  actions,  and  I  am 
very  grateful  to  you." 

"Never  mind  about  that,  Iphi,  it  is  nothing.  I  have 
been  paid  and  repaid  a  thousand  times.  Frank  is  a  good 
boy,  and  dear  to  me  as  if  my  own  son.  Never  mind 
about  that,  Iphi,  I  am  nothing  but  a  rough,  weather-beaten 
sea  captain." 

Frank  and  Iphi  sat  down  and  had  some  talk  to  them- 
selves, not  intended  for  other  ears,  while  the  countess, 
Alonzo,  and  the  captain,  gathered  off  in  one  end  of  the 
apartment,  and  were  consulting  and  planning  the  welfare 
and  happiness  of  Jean  and  Iphi.  Captain  Smith  seemed 
anxious  that  Frank  and  Iphi  should  be  married  forthwith. 


^ 


f' 


226 


EXILES  OF  LOUISIANA, 


as  the  Lafayette  was  to  depart  in  a  few  days  for  other  ports 
in  the  Mediterranean,  before  returning  to  New  Orleans. 
So  it  was  concluded  that  the  wedding  should  take  place 
that  very  evening.  They  informed  Frank  and  Iphi  of  their 
conclusion,  and  the  captain  and  Frank  went  out  into  the 
city  to  make  arrangements  accordingly.  That  evening  the 
splendid  apartment  selected  for  this  happy  marriage  was 
beautifully  decorated.  There  was  present  the  aged  parents 
of  Iphi,  full  of  thankfulness  that  their  lives  had  been  pro- 
longed to  witness  the  marriage  of  their  darling  child  to 
her  first  love.  They  rejoiced  that  Jean  was  so  worthy  of 
her,  and  had  been  so  true  and  faithful  in  all  things.  They 
had  rejoiced  in  the  good  news  that  their  favorite  Louis 
was  doing  so  well. 

Francisco  was  present  with  his  strange,  weird  look,  but 
no  one  was  more  pleased  with  the  happiness  of  these 
young  folks,  than  he.  While  sitting  there  and  thinking 
of  Iphi,  how  nobly  she  had  clung  to  Verono  and  saved 
her,  and  that  Verono  was  so  happy  and  joyful,  and  so 
much  changed  for  good,  he  mentally  exclaimed,  "  Thanks  I 
thanks  to  this  noble  maiden,  so  full  of  true  generosity  1" 

Calvetti  was  present,  and  to  him  it  was  a  joyful  occur- 
rence ;  he  thought  these  events  had  worked  wonders  in 
favor  of  his  charge  and  ward,  Francisco. 

The  priest  was  present,  ready  to  perform  the  ceremony 
at  the  appointed  hour.  Jean  and  Iphi,  accompanied  by 
Captain  Smith  and  the  countess,  came  isno  the  apartment, 
and  Jean  and  Iphi  were  thus  united  it.  '.larriage  by  the 
names  of  Frank  Harrold  and  Iphi  Vilani,  as  had  been 
agreed  upon  for  certain  reasons  suggested  by  the  good 
sense  of  Calvetti  and  Captain  Smith.  Frank  was  to  go 
into  business  here  in  Leghorn,  and  it  was  deemed  ad- 
visable for  him  to  use  that  name. 


CAPTAIN  ETHAN  SMITH, 


227 


It  was  further  intciulcd  that  Frank  ;incl  Iphi  would  be 
heirs  to  the  greater  portion  ol  the  family  wealth,  and  then 
his  name  would  be  changed  by  law  to  that  of  Vilani. 

Thus  virtue  has  triumphed,  and  these  two  faithful  hearts 
yhave  been  crowned  with  all  the  earthly  bliss  that  usually 
•  fall  to  the  lot  of  mankind.  '     - 

The  two  sacks  of  gold,  the  one  fastened  with  wire,  the 
other  with  a  string,  were  in  a  few  days  opened  and  used  as 
a  basis  of  starting  the  Forwarding  and  Commission  House 
in  Leghorn,  styled,  The  House  of  Harrold,  Lavasse  & 
Co.,  composed  of  Pierre  Lavasse  and  Charles  Convors, 
of  New  Orleans,  and  Francis  Harrold,  of  Leghorn,  and 
connected  with  the  House  ol  Lavasse  &  Co.,  of  New 
Orleans. 

These  sack?  of  gold  had  remained  for  so  many  years, 
that  Iphi's  good  fortune  had  given  her  other  means  to  help 
the  destitute,  and  the  unfortunate,  and  it  now  formed  the 
basis  of  a  commercial  prosperity  that  blessed  many  a 
human  being  with  happiness. 

The  lives  of  the  good  old  parents  of  Iphi,  closed  with 
all  the  peace  and  harmony  of  a  serene,  cloudless  sunset. 
There  was  nothing  in  their  lives  that  was  marked  with  the 
splendors  of  earth,  but  doubtless  the  portals  of  heaven 
were  swung  wide  open  to  receive  them,  and  the  angels  of 
love  crowned  them  with  wreaths  of  unfading  splendor. 

The  Countess  De  Vilani  and  Iphi  dwelt  together  with 
the  love  of  sisters.  Jean  was  faithful  in  the  discharge 
of  his  duty,  prompt,  honest,  and  correct  in  all  his  business 
transactions,  and  of  course  successful. 

Francisco  and  Calvetti  spent  all  their  time  in  reforming 
the  outrageous  abuses  in  Insane  Asylums,  and  helping  the 
poor. 


.  i^  ■ 


■K-^ 


S'X 


^ 


228 


EXILES  OF  LOUISIANA. 


Alonzo  was  not  idle,  he  had  the  means,  the  will,  and 
the  nobleness  of  heart,  to  aid  suffering  humanity. 

Iphi,  the  flower-girl,  selling  flowers,  fruit,  and  vege- 
tables in  the  market-place  of  Leghorn,  to  make  a  support 
for  a  good  old  father  and  mother  who  had  watched  over 
her  in  her  infant  years,  and  instilled  in  her  young  heart 
the  grand  principles  of  truth  and  love,  had  turned  this 
palace  of  wealth,  splendor,  and  crime,  into  an  abiding 
place  of  virtue,  honor,  truth,  and  love.  She  found  it 
darkened  with  the  shadows  of  sin,  she  brought  the 
sunlight  of  perfect  joy.  It  was  the  triumph  of  faith 
and  virtue.  Her  majestic  son'  ivac  illumed  with  Prome- 
thean fire  from  heaven  s  altar,  and  wnen  in  years  back  she 
said,  "  I  would  sooner  die  than  suffer  dishonor,"  she  had 
put  on  the  armor  of  Achilles,  and  defied  the  weapons 
of  the  ruthless,  merciless  enemies  of  mankind. 

This  palace  was  the  home  of  Iphi ;  she  was  its  sunlight, 
its  joy,  its  glory.  She  was  like  a  column,  carved  with 
peerless  elegance  and  beauty,  standing  alone  in  grand  sol- 
itude, amidst  the  crumbling  ruins  of  some  ancient  temple, 
that  had  long  since  fallen,  and  left  this  solitary  mark  oJ  its 
departed  grandeur. 


li 


ACHILLES  MURAT  MAKES  HIMSELF  ICNOWX  IN  LOUISIANA.    Pago  2  2. 


fi 


^^ 


THE  STRANGER, 


231 


''Hi 

I 

% 


BOOK   XV. 


THE   STRANGER. 


II 


I.. 

«*  'Tis  strange,  because  'tis  true." 

The  stranger  rescued  from  the  tempest  by  Claude  and 
the  negro  boy  Tom,  arose  at  a  late  hour  in  the  morning,  re- 
freshed and  invigorated  by  sweet  repose.  He  looked 
around  the  neatly  furnished  little  bed-room,  and  saw  from 
the  pictures  on  the  v/all,  and  the  fashion  and  form  of 
everything,  that  he  was  in  the  hands  of  his  countrymen. 
After  he  had  made  his  toilet,  Tom  came  into  the  apart- 
ment with  coffee  and  refreshments  and  said,  "  Massa,  I 
bring  you  something  make  you  feel  better,  sure.  " 

The  stranger  thanked  Tom  for  his  kindness  and  fol- 
lowed his  advice,  and  found,  as  Tom  had  said,  most  excel- 
lent viands  for  refreshment. 

Claude,  his  mother,  and  wife,  had  assembled  in  the  sitting- 
room  adjoining  the  chamber,  to  receive  the  stranger  and 
pay  him  their  addresses. 

When  the  stranger  advanced  into  the  room,  Claude  met 
him,  grasped  his  hand  and  said,  "  Monsieur,  you  may 
think  my  question  somewhat  indiscreet,  but  pardon  me ; 
your  fac2  impresses  me  so  strangely  that  I  cannot  refrain 
from  asking  your  name." 

"  My  friend,"  he  replied,  "  this  is  the  only  question  I 
cannot  answer.     I  might  give  you  a  false  name;  but  he 


1^- 


ml 


'tis 


232 


EXILES    OF  LOUISIANA. 


who  bears  my  name  cannot  lie,  and  I  prefer  to  be  silent  ; 
and  now  I  cannot  consistently  ask  the  name  of  my  bene- 
factor who  has  saved  my  life." 

"  The  name  I  bear  in  this  country  is  Claude  Harrold. 
I  am  not  ashamed  of  my  name  in  France ;  but  there  are 
reasons  why  I  should  be  silent." 

"  It  is  the  same  with  me,"  replied  the  stranger.  "  This 
is  your  mother,  and  this  lady  is  your  wife  ? " 

"  Yes,"   replied  Claude."" 

"I  will  never  tell  my  name,"  continued  the  stranger, 
"  except  to  those  who  desv  r"^  to  know  it.  I  see  you  are 
exiles  from  our  beloved  cou.  France.  I  see  further, 
that  you  are  friends  and  will  not  Detray  me,  I  am  Achilles 
Murat,  son  of  the  late  king  of  Naples." 

At  the  mention  of  this  great  name,  they  bowed  their 
heads  in  love,  veneration,  and  gratitude,  and  wept. 

The  prince  being  at  this  time  a  citizen  of  the  United 
States,  seeing  this  excessive  emotion,  evidently  beyond 
control,  was  struck  with  great  amazement.  He  stood 
silent,  thinking  of  this  strange  event.  He  was  an  exile 
from  his  native  country ;  had  been  out  hunting  for  amuse- 
ment ;  a  terrible  storm  came  upon  him.  He  saw  a  light 
shining  in  the  window  of  this  humble  cottage,  and  while 
struggling  to  reach  it,  fell  helpless  and  exhausted,  and 
his  life  was  in  peril.  They  heard  his  cry  for  help  and 
saved  him  from  death.     What  can  all  this  mean  ? 

When  Claude  had  become  calm,  after  the  astonishment 
at  the  name  of  the  stranger,  he  took  him  by  the  hand  and 
led  him  to  the  picture  we  have  described  in  a  former  chap- 
ter, and  drawing  aside  a  veil  that  covered  it,  he  said  to  the 
prince,  there  is  the  picture  of  your  glorious  father.  It 
was  a  large  painting:,  and  represented  the  king  of  Naples 


THE  STRANGER. 


233 


on  horseback,  clashing  along  the  shore  of  the  sea,  with 
Vesuvius  in  the  distance,  belching  forth  lurid  flames. 
"  Yes,  it  is  your  father,  he  is  the  divinity,  the  saint  of  this 
household.  To  us  all,  he  is  next  in  devotion  to  the  One 
who  is  above  all  things  of  earth.  All  I  have,  he  gave  me. 
I  was  condemned  to  death ;  he  gave  me  life.  I  was  poor, 
and  all  I  have  of  property  or  goods,  he  gave  me.  And 
now,  if  his  son  needs  my  arm,  my  property,  my  life,  they 
are  his." 

"  Generous,  nob!  3  man  !  "  replied  the  prince ;  "  it  is  the 
image  of  my  beloved  father.  But  in  the  name  of  heaven, 
tell  me !  who  are  you  that  thus  worship  the  memory  of 
my  father?  And  yourself,  your  good  old  mother,  and 
wife,  cannot  refrain  from  tears,  at  the  mention  of  his 
name.     Who  can  you  be  }  tell  rne  ? " 

"  I  am  Paul  Lorraine.  This  is  my  dear,  old  mother. 
This,  my  beloved  wife,  Annetta." 

"  Why,  that  cannot  be !  Let  us  be  seated,  and  I  will 
tell  you.  My  father  often  spoke  with  great  tenderness  of 
Paul  Lorraine,  Jean,  and  Louis,  who  were  executed  at  Leg- 
horn ;  also  of  your  good  mother,  and  your  wife  Annetta, 
and  of  a  Greek  maiden,  called  Iphi,  who  loved  Jean  ten- 
derly. I  was  so  much  interested  in  this  event,  that  I  ex- 
amined the  record  of  the  garrison  at  Leghorn,  and  it  was 
recorded,  that  on  the  19th  day  of  June,  a.  d.  1808, 
Paul  Lorraine,  Jean  Gendron,  and  Louis  Dejon,  were  shot 
for  mutiny  and  insubordination,  with  a  note  on  the  margin, 
in  my  father's  own  handwriting.  These  young  men  died 
heroic.  They  died  more  in  honor,  than  dishonor.  'Jhey 
deserve  to  be  honored,  for  they  accepted  death  rather  than 
dishonor.  How  can  it  be,  that  you  are  Paul  Lorraine  ? 
Perhaps  you  can  explain  this  strange  mystery?" 


if 


%:■ 


m  I 


i 


234 


EXILES   OF  LOUISIANA. 


"  Dear  brother !  I  call  you  dear  brother,  for  you  are  as 
clear  to  me  as  a  brother.  I  told  you  that  your  father  had 
given  me  life  when  I  was  condemned  to  die.  On  the  even- 
ing of  the  1 8th  of  June,  a.  d.  1808,  we  were  led  into  the 
presence  of  your  father,  then  king  of  Naples,  to  receive 
the  sentence  of  death.  Your  father  could  hardly  restrain 
his  sorrow  for  us  when  he  was  condemning  us  to  death. 
He  seemed  to  be  moved  with  intense  pity  and  compassion. 
We  left  his  presence  with  no  other  thought  than  to  prepare 
for  death  on  the  following  day.  We  never  thought  of 
pardon,  for  that  was  impossible,  as  your  father  had,  on  his 
own  responsibility,  modified  the  absolute  commands  of 
the  emperor,  to  put  to  death  every  man  who  was  acting  in 
mutiny,  without  even  a  court  martial.  We  were  marched 
to  the  place  of  execution,  prepared  to  die.  I  noticed 
that  the  officiating  sergeant  did  not  belong  to  the  regi- 
ment, and  was  unknown  to  me.  The  two  men  who  brought 
the  coffins  on  trunnels,  were  also  strangers,  and  were  act- 
ing as  undertakers.  We  were  placed  at  the  head  of  our 
respective  coffins,  while  a  platoon  was  marched  out  of  the 
regiment.  We  stood  facing  the  platoon,  twenty  paces  dis- 
tant. When  all  was  ready,  the  sergeant  took  us  by  the 
hand,  and  while  kissing  us  on  the  cheek,  quickly  and  dis- 
tinctly said  to  each  of  us,  fall  at  the  word  fire.  Saved. 
We  saw  at  once  what  it  meant ;  that  your  father  had 
planned  to  save  our  lives ;  keep  the  good  will  of  the  em- 
peror, and  set  an  example  to  the  army,  that  such  breaches 
of  discipline  had  to  be  punished  with  death. 

We  fell  at  the  fire  of  the  platoon.  The  two  strangers 
came  forward,  and,  with  the  assistance  of  the  sergeant, 
we  were  placed  in  the  coffins.  The  platoon  was  marched 
into  the  regiment,  and  the  regiment  marched  back   into 


THE  STRANGER. 


235 


11 


■Y.r- 


the  garrison.  Being  on  the  outside  of  the  Pisan  gate,  we 
were  not  far  from  the  cemetery.  By  some  kind  of 
contrivance,  the  lids  of  the  coffins  were  fastened,  yet 
we  could  with  some  difficulty  breathe.  By  this  time  it 
was  quite  dark.  When  we  reached  the  cemetery  gate, 
there  was  some  conversation  which  I  could  not  hear 
distinctly,  but  we  moved  on  again,  and  soon  were  at  the 
place  where  three  graves  had  been  dug  to  receive  us. 

We  were  hastily  taken  out  of  the  coffins,  and  our  dress 
as  soldiers  of  France  was  taken  off,  and  we  each  put  on 
the  blue  uniform  of  American  seamen,  while  our  French 
unifonns  were  put  in  the  coffins  and  buried  in  the  graves. 

The  sergeant  gave  us  each  a  package  containing  one 
thousand  francs,  with  an  order  to  the  officers  in  charge  of 
the  ship,  Lafayette,  laying  in  the  harbor,  to  receive  us  as 
employees.  This  order  was  signed  by  Captain  Ethan 
Smith.  We  also  had  a  pass  from  the  king  of  Naples, 
with  instructions  to  destroy  it  when  safe  on  board  of 
ship. 

We  could  not  read  these  orders,  for  it  was  quite  dark, 
but  were  informed  of  their  contents.  Then  we  were  led  to 
a  back  passage  of  the  cemetery,  with  directions  what 
course  to  take  to  reach  the  vessel  in  the  harbor. 

When  on  board  the  ship,  we  recognized  Captain  Smith 
and  the  mate,  as  the  persons  who  had  assisted  in  the  exe- 
cution and  burial  of  the  empty  coffins. 

When  we  were  out  on  the  sea,  and  under  way  with  full 
sail,  you  can  form  no  idea,  my  dear  Prince,  of  the  love  and 
gratitude  that  ''.ouis,  Jean,  and  myself,  felt  towards  your 
father  for  thus  preserving  our  lives. 

Vi  was  very  sad  and  distressing  for  me  to  leave  my 
mother,  and  my  wife,  and  my  dear  native  land  ;  for  Jean 


236 


EXILES  OF  LOUISIANA. 


to  leave  Iphi,  whom  he  loved  so  well ;  and  Louis  his  dear 
parents.  But  we  were  young  and  full  of  hope  ;  and  thanks 
to  our  heavenly  Father  that  our  hopes  have  been  realized. 

Captain  Smith  informed  us  that  on  the  morning  of  the 
day  of  the  execution,  your  father  sent  for  him,  desiring 
very  strongly  for  him  not  to  fail,  as  he  wanted  to  see  him 
on  pressing  business.  When  together  it  was  planned  that 
one  of  the  king's  faithful  attendants  should  attend  to  the 
execution,  as  a  sergeant  of  his  body  guard.  Captain  Smith 
was  to  bring  an  assistant,  and  to  come  with  coffins  as 
undertakers,  with  the  dress  of  an  American  seaman  in 
each  coffin,  to  be  exchanged  in  the  cemetery. 

Captain  Smith,  in  relating  this  inter\dew,  said  that 
when  your  fa-"ier  told  him  what  kind  of  boys  we  were, 
he  said  to  your  father,  "  By  Moses,  he  would  see  the  boys 
through ;  take  'em  to  New  Orleans  and  set  them  up." 

The  prince  heard  this  strange  recital  with  astonishment, 
and  saw  in  it  a  new  development  of  the  noble-hearted 
character  of  his  father.  "  He  performed  this  act  of  mercy, 
to  gratify  the  goodness  of  his  heart,  and  thus  conceal  it 
from  the  world.  Is  it  not  very  strange  that  I  should  have 
been  in  a  storm,  my  life  in  peril,  and  you,  of  all  the  men 
on  this  earth,  should  come  to  me  and  save  me  from  death  ?  *' 

Annetta,  in  her  sweet,  plaintive  tone  of  voice,  said 
to  him,  "  Dear  Prince,  it  is  not  strange ;  you  were  sent  to 
us  so  that  we  could  express  to  the  son  our  love  and  grati- 
tude for  the  father  who  saved  the  life  of  our  dear  Paul. 
God  said  to  Paul,  there  is  one  dying  in  the  tempest,  whom 
you  love  with  a  brother's  love,  and  you  would  give  every- 
thing to  save  him  from  death.  Put  a  light  in  the  window 
to  lead  him  to  this  house  of  refuge,  under  the  protection 
of  a  love  that  will  endure  beyond  the  grave.     God  surely 


THE  STRANGER. 


237 


has  done  this  all  for  us."  The  voice  and  manner  of 
Annetta  was  so  full  of  pathos  that  tears  stood  in  the  eyes 
of  the  prince  as  he  listened  to  the  sincere  and  earnest 
avowal,  that  God  had  directed  him  to  this  humble  cot 
for  protection. 

The  prince  now  inquired  of  Paul,  where  this  Captain 
Smith  was  at  the  present  time.  Paul  informed  him  that 
he  was  still  engaged  in  the  shipping  business,  between  the 
ports  of  the  Mediterranean  and  New  Orleans;  and  the 
last  time  he  saw  him  in  New  Orleans  he  informed  him  that 
he  expected  to  die  on  the  sea.  That  the  ship  on  the 
ocean  had  been  his  cradle,  and  the  waves  should  be  his 
winding-sheet  and  grave.  During  the  late  war  with  Eng- 
land he  had  command  of  a  war  vessel,  and  was  a  terror 
upon  the  sea.  "  He  is  brave,  generous,  and  noble-hearted. 
He  had,  after  all  danger  of  compromising  your  father  was 
passed,  made  arrangement  to  bring  my  mother,  wife.  Uncle 
Louis,  and  his  two  sons  from  Marseilles  to  New  Orleans ; 
arrangements  having  been  previously  made  for  them  to  be 
at  Marsailles  on  a  certain  day,  to  meet  him  there  with  his 
ship  *  Lafayette.' 

"  Uncle  Louis  and  his  two  sons  are  in  New  Orleans,  and 
doing  well.  Louis  Dejon  is  there,  a  successful  merchant, 
under  the  name  of  Charles  Convors ;  he  became  the  part- 
ner of  Pierre  Lavasse,  and  the  husband  of  his  daughter. 
Jean  Gendron,  under  the  name  of  Frank  Harrold,  went 
back  years  ago,  and  married  Iphi ;  went  into  business  in 
connection  with  Louis  at  New  Orleans,  and  has  been  very 
prosperous  and  happy.  Captain  Smith  has  ever  been  a 
good  friend  to  us  all,  and  every  time  I  think  of  him,  and 
what  he  has  done  for  Louis,  Jean,  and  myself,  my  heart  is 
filled  with  gratitude  and  love  for  him.  And  now  we  would 
all  like  to  hear  of  the  last  days  of  your  father." 


\ 


238 


EXILES  OF  LOUISIANA. 


The  prince  in  reply,  said  his  father  had  been  "  betrayed 
by  his  pretended  friends,  into  the  hands  of  his  enemies. 
And  on  the  13th  day  of  October,  1815,  he  was  put  to  death 
by  the  order  of  Ferdinand.  The  13th  of  October  has 
been  a  day  of  mourning  for  us  all,  as  each  year  brings 
around  its  sad  memories.  He  was  kind  and  generous  to 
every  one.  When  he  heard  that  Paris  had  surrendered, 
and  the  emperor  was  a  prisoner  in  the  hands  of  his  enemies, 
he  wept  tears  of  sorrow,  and  said  to  my  mother, '  Caroline,* 
all  is  lost.'  '  No,'  said  my  mother,  in  that  lofty,  imperial 
spirit  of  her  brother.  '  No,  all  is  not  lost.  We  have  pre- 
served honor,  and  constancy  remains  to  us  in  adversity.' 
He  listened  with  composure  to  his  sentence  of  death, 
and  sat  down  and  wrote  these  words,  —  I  have  a  copy  of 
this  letter,  but  every  word  is  engraven  on  my  heart  and 
memory :  — 

"  *  Dear  Caroline. —  My  last  hour  is  sounded.  In  a  few 
moments  I  shall  have  ceased  to  live,  and  you  will  no 
longer  have  a  husband.  Do  not  forget  me.  My  life  has 
been  stained  by  no  injustice.  Farewell,  my  liCtitia ;  fare- 
well, my  Achilles;  farewell,  my  Lucian ;  farewell,  my  Louisa. 
I  leave  you  without  fortune  or  kingdom,  in  the  midst  of 
enemies.  Be  united  and  prove  yourselves  superior  to  mis- 
fortune. Remember  that  my  greatest  suffering  is  dying 
far  from  my  children.  Receive  my  blessing,  my  embrace, 
and  my  tears.  Preserve,  ever  in  your  memory,  the  recol- 
lection of  your  unhappy  father.  Joachim.' 

"  My  beloved  father  asks  us  to  remember  him.  How 
dear  his  memory  has  been  to  us  all !  He  is  ever  present 
with  us  in  memory.  Each  year,  as  the  13th  day  of  October 
comes  around,  I  spend  the  day  in  silence  and-  tears. 


THE  STRANGER. 


239 


"  He  said,  in  the  last  hour  of  his  life,  that  it  was  to  him  a 
sweet  consolation,  that  he  never  saw  the  face  of  a  man 
who  fell  by  his  hand  ;  for  if  he  had,  his  image  would  have 
rendered  his  life  miserable.  He  was  brave,  kind-hearted, 
just,  and  merciful.  Yet,  in  the  hour  of  his  cruel  death, 
there  was  no  one  to  pity-him,  no  one  to  show  him  pardon 
and  mercy." 

The  prince  could  no  longer  control  his  emotions,  and 
was  silent  for  some  time,  when  good  Mother  Lorraine 
said  to  him,  "  Mourn  not,  my  son.  For  he  had  the  mercy 
and  compassion  of  one  who  was  able  to  save,  far  above 
all  kings  of  earth.  He  died  in  peace.  He  had  ever 
been  just,  loving,  and  merciful.  Fear  not,  my  son ;  God 
never  has,  nor  ever  will  forsake  such  a  one  as  he.  When 
this  good  soul  left  earth,  the  outstretched  arms  of  the 
jTcat  Shepherd  led  him  through  the  shadows  of  death, 
to  the  kingdom  of  the  blest." 

"  Good  mother,  I  do  believe  he  is  in  heaven,  for  he  was 
good  and  just.  When  he  stood  before  his  enemies  to  die, 
he  said,  *  Do  not  darken  my  eyes.'  He  smiled  on  the  weap- 
ons of  death,  and  said,  '  Fire  at  my  heart ! '  and  clasped  to 
his  bosom  the  image  of  his  wife  and  children. 

^  His  eyes  were  fixed  upon  the  clear,  serene  Italian  sky, 
and  doubtless,  far  away  in  the  azure  depths,  he  saw  the  shin- 
ing throne,  and  hope  heard  the  sweet  songs  of  the  angels 
of  charity  and  mercy." 

The  last  words  of  the  prince  were  uttered  in  broken 
sobs.  They  all  bowed  their  heads  and  wept  in  lilence. 
The  prince  and  the  peasant  wept  together. 

If  ever  the  immortal  soul  that  has  passed  the  barriers 
of  earth  comes  back  to  receive  the  sweet  and  holy  incense 
of  love,  gratitude,  and  adoration,  offered  on  the  altar  by 


240 


EXILES  OF  LOUISIANA. 


unselfish  hearts,  the  majestic  soul  of  Joachim  Murat  was 
present  with  them  in  this  humble  cottage  home. 

The  sun  had  arisen  high  up  in  the  sky  with  golden 
beams,  proclaiming  peace  and  joy  once  more  to  the  storm- 
beaten  earth.  The  passing  wind  sighed  mournfully  over 
the  ruin  and  wreck  of  field  and  forest. 

The  prince  and  the  peasant  lived  and  loved  as  brothers. 
Negro  Tom,  who  had  ever  been  faithful,  was  emancipated, 
as  he  was  the  first  to  hear  the  cry  for  help.  Paul  Lorraine 
said  to  him,  "  Never  more  shall  man  call  thee  slave." 

Years  have  passed  away.  Not  far  from  this  cottage,  on 
the  roadside  leading  to  New  Orleans,  in  a  cemetery  there 
are  three  graves,  side  by  side.  They  are  covered  with 
marble  slabs.  On  one  is  carved  the  name  of  Annetta. 
One  is  the  grave  of  the  peasant  soldier,  who  pointed  the 
pathway  to  the  greatest  commander  of  modern  times  in 
his  triumphant  march  across  the  Alps,  in  the  cause  of  jus- 
tice and  liberty.  The  other  is  the  grave  of  the  good 
mother,  whose  sublime  faith  ever  said  to  her  heart,  in  the 
end  all  will  be  well.  They  rest  beneath  the  cloud,  rain- 
bow, sun,  and  stars.  The  shadow  of  the  Cyprus,  pine, 
magnolia,  and  the  vine,  redolent  with  the  incense  of  blos- 
soms and  flowers,  falls  gently  and  lovingly  upon  their  last 
resting-place. 

Three  grand  souls  passed  this  way  from  earth  to  heaven. 
Their  lives  had  been  poor  and  humble,  without  pride, 
without  ostentation,  but  embellished  with  the  splendid  vir- 
tues of  love,  charity,  and  mercy. 


THE  END. 


""""""""'ft  1 


American  Historical  Novels. 

Large  i2mos,  cloth  extra. 

FRENCH  EXILES  IN  LOUISIANA.  By  J.  T.  Lindsay. 
Illustrated.   340  pp.  $1.00 

LOa  CABIN  DAYS  OF  ILLINOIS.    By  same  Author. 

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WEST.     By  same  Author.  In  Preparation. 

THE  BUCCANEERS.  Vol.  I.  By  Capt.  Randolph 
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A  SUNNY  LIFE.  By  Robert  Broomfield,  Author  of 
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A  Biographical  Narrative.  $1.00 

^  THE  MINISTER'S  DAUGHTER.    By  William  McMi- 
CHAEL.    A  Story.  $1.00 

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Analytical  Processes  : 

Or,  The  Primary  Principle  of  Philosophy.  By  Rev.  Wil- 
liam I.  Gill,  A.  M.,  author  of  "  Evolution  and  Progress." 
The  third  volume  of  the  International  Prize  Series.  Imitation 
morocco,  fine  paper,  uniform  with  '  *  Evolution  and  Progress," 
483  pp.,  i2mo.     .         .  .  .  Price,   2.00 

A  work  which  the  com-mittee  cannot  describe  without  seeming  to  exaggerate.  It  13 
marked  by  extraordindry  depth  and  originality,  and  yet  it  is  bo  clear  and  convincing  ab 
to  make  its  novel  conclusions  appear  liki  familiar  common  sense. —  From  the  Report  qf 
Committee  of  Prize  Award. 

It  contains  a  vast  amount  of  able  and  conscientious  thought  and  acute  criticism. — 
Dr.  McCosh,  Pres't  Princeton  College. 

A  specimen  of  robust  thinking.    lam  very  much  gratified  with  its  thoroughness' 
acuteness  and  logical  coherence. — Dr.  Anderson,  Pres't  Rochester  University. 
Shows  much  acuteness. — N.  Y.  Independent. 

The  author  has  already  gained  fiune  by  his  "  Evolution  and  Progress."— 5ran  Franciteo 
Bulletin. 

An  important  aid  toward  the  ultimate  reconciliation  of  science  and  religion.— JVeio 
York  Mail. 

Will  interest  thinkere  of  a  philosophic  turn.  Its  author  is  a  close  student  who  does 
his  own  thinking. — N.  Y.  Graphic. 

Has  established  his  position  as  a  strong  and  keen  thinker.  The  supremacy  of  logic 
has  never  been  more  ably  maintained. — N.  Y.  Methodist. 

This  work,  like  the  other  from  his  pen,  givos  abundant  evidence  of  great  familiarity 
with  metaphysical  speculation,  and  also  of  Independeuce  and  acuteness.  That  those 
who  study  his  >vritings  will  be  instructed  I  do  not  doubt.— I»c.  N.  Porter.  Pres't  Yale 
College. 

Will  add  to  the  writer's  reputation  as  a  profound  and  ingenious  thinker.  The  object 
Is  to  establish  a  fundamental  law  on  which  all  philosophical  theories  or  systems  must 
be  built — to  supply  an  analytical  principle  which  may  ssrve  as  a  compass  to  guide  the 
barks  of  all  who  venture  on  the  boundless  deep  of  philosophical  inquiry.  .  .  .  The 
development  of  the  author's  argument  necessitates  a  critical  comparison  of  the  views 
of  Descartes,  Hegel.  Jxsat,  Locke,  Oousiu,  Mill,  Hpencer,  Mansel,  McCosh  and  other 
founders  or  foUoweiB  of  philosophic  schools— a  task  which  he  fulfils  with  equ^  learn- 
ng  and  acuteness.  The  three  parts  into  which  the  work  is  divided  are  concerned  re- 
spectively with  the  rigorous  application  of  this  analytical  principle  to  Locnci,  On- 
tology and  Mathbmatioo.  .  .  la  thoroughly  worth  the  study  of  oil  who  are  lond  of 
^he  branch  of  investigation  which  it  ably  represents.— T.  Y.  ^Vorld. 

Mr.  William  I.  Gill,  the  author  of  a  work  entitled  "  Evolutii^  i  and  Progress,"  the  pub- 
lication of  which  led  to  his  trial  for  heresy  before  the  Metb  otUst  Conference  of  Newark, 
hes  issued  anot'ier  and  stiU  more  startling  philosophical  work.  .  .  Ho  moves 
straight  forward.  Bather  than  watch  the  headlands  and  follow  the  sinuous  track  of 
expediency,  or  to  take  counsel  of  fear,  he  prefers,  whatever  be  the  result,  to  trust  his 
compass  and  to  take  the  unbeaten  track  across  the  deep.  He  therefore  never  hesitates 
to  push- a  principle  to  its  utmost  results,  und  any  supposed  principle  that  will  not 
endure  this  test  he  rejects  without  remorse,  preserving  absolute  and  ultimate  consist- 
ency at  any  cost ;  and  ho  resorts  to  no  expediency  to  save  a  theory  or  to  destroy  one. 
.  .  The  work  thus  undertaken  must  attract  very  general  attention  among  thinkebs, 
to  whom  the  book  is  dedicated.  It  is  a  valuable  contribution  to  the  literature  of  pbil* 
osophy. — N.  Y.  Post. 

It  presents,  clenrly  and  Btrongly,  8onic  of  tlioBu  c-reat  central  tnith.s  concernint»  which 
so  many  minds  arc  in  doubt  or  uncertainty,  and  from  which  othcrh  shrink  away  in 
hopeless  bewilderment.  The  work  sUowh  careful  study,  keen  philoHoyhic  insight  ard 
condasive  icoeoning.    ^ad  it.— £vange'ica'^fetisenger,  Clcve'and,  O. 

ai) 


'  i 


i 


13 


W.  B,   SMITH  &  GO'S  DESCRIPTIVE  LIST. 


Tho  supremacy  of  logic  lias  never  been  more  ably  i.iaintnined     Jlr.  Gill  ban  csf al; 
ILsbo.l  bis  position  as  a  strong  and  free  tliiukei*. — Xcio  York  Methodist. 

Wo  have  elsowbcro  noticed  tbe  work  of  Mr.  Gill  npon  substantially  tlio  same  topic, 
rr,  rather,  Mr.  Gill's  tliosis  includes  tbat  of  Pr.>i\>s.'5(.  'Mrk.  Wo  .advise  tlio  reading  of 
t  !io  two  together,  if  for  no  other  reason,  to  measure  the  Cambridge  Professor  alongsido 
of  the  Kew  Jersc^y  ^Methodist  minister.  Tlio  Englishman  does  not  gain  by  the  oom- 
pirison — New  York  Methodist,  notice  o/Birk's  "Fatalism  and  Evolution.^' 

It  will  serve  to  clear  up  much  tnat  is  vague  and  unsatisfactory  in  the  present 
methods  of  philosophical  thought.  .  .  .  Mr.  Gill  has  laid  aside  all  cumbersome  and 
useless  theological  armor,  and  goes  into  the  arena  equipped  only  with  the  weapons  of 
I'tgic  and  pure  reason.  ...  A  valuable  contribution  to  the  science  of  philosophy, 
jiiid  an  important  aid  toward  the  ultimate  reconciliation  of  science  and  rengion.  Sfr. 
(Jill  is  a  Methodist  minister,  and  we  congratulate  the  Methodists  on  having  in  their 
ranks  one  of  tho  best  logicians  of  the  present  day. — New  York  Mail. 

l^y  "Analytical  Processes"  be  understands  deductive  processes, — whose  supreme 
principle  ia  the  law  of  non-contradiction.  The  present  work  falls  into  three  books,  of 
which  the  first  treat,s  of  logic,  the  second  of  ontology,  the  third  of  mathematics  as 
founded  on  tho  supreme  principle  named.  "Wo  can  not  give  a  brief  verdict  on  the  work 
i  1  a  happier  manner  tlian  by  qiioting  tho  words  of  Dr.  McCosh:  "It  contains  a  vast 
.•mount  of  able  and  conscientious  thought  and  acute  criticism."  Tho  work  is  written 
i:i  iiM  earnest  but  popul.ar  style;  is  stimulative  of  thought,  .and  busies  itself  with  tho 
vital  (xuosti<ms  which  thinkers  must  settle  first  on  their  way  to  a  comprehensive  theory 
of  tho  worlds  of  nuin  and  nature.  We  look  with  interest  for  the  second  volume,  on 
tho  Philosoi)hy  of  Synthetic  Processes. — Journal  of  Speculative  Philosophy,  St.  Louis. 


)i 


Evolution  and  Progress: 

An  Exposition  and  Defence.     The  Foundation  of  Evolu- 
tion Philosophically  Expounded,  and  its  Arguments  (di- 
vested of  insignificant  and  distracting  physical  details) 
succinctly  vStated;  together  with  a  review  of  leading  op- 
ponents, as  Dawson  and  Wincliell,  and  qua,si-opponents, 
as  Le  Conte  and  Carpenter.     By  Rev.  William  1.  Gill, 
A.  M.,  of  Newark  Conference,  N.  J.      The  firat  volume 
of  the  International  Prize  Series.    Third  Edition.    Clotli 
extra,   imitation   morocco,  fine  paper,   295   pp.,    12mo., 
Price         .        .        .        .        .        .        .        .         $1  5t) 

Each  volume  in  this  series  was  awarded  a  prize  of  Two  Hun- 
dred Dollars  in  addition  to  copyright,  in  a  competition  whicli 
was  open  one  year  to  the  world,  and  where  over  tliree  hundred 
manuscripts  were  submitted  and  read. 

DESCRIPTIVE  OPINIONS  OF  INVOLUTION  AND  PROGRESS. 

One  of  our  most  candid  and  thoughtful  writers.— Z)r.  Crane. 

He  is  a  clear  and  strong  reasoner. — Cincinnati  Christian  /Standard. 

I  rejoice  in  all  attempts  of  this  kind,  made  in  a  spirit  like  that  which 
prompts  your  work. — Merberi  iSpencer. 

His  writings  are  marked  by  strong  common  sense,  sound,  logic,  and 
clear  demonstration. — Methodist  Home  Journal. 

Ho  strikes  with  no  velvet  glove,  but  with  a  steel-clad  h,ind,  dealiivg 
hi.s  blows  with  equal  profusion  and  impartiality. — New  York  Tribune. 

Clearly  and  succinctly  states  the  foundation  and  arguments  of  Evu- 
.ution,  and  reviews  its  leading  opponents. — New  York  Mail. 

It  is  ably  written.     Ho  builds  his  doctrinal  house  on  philosophicaJ 
p  '\\H'\[)\e».—Jirookli/n  Union. 

I'roHcnts  wiiat  niust  everywhere  be  acknowledged  as  «  jtarticu'  ^ 
•.roiig  urguniout.-  ICvansville  (/«</.)  Ihtily  JonrnaL 


m 


W.   B.   SMITH  &  go's  descriptive  LIST. 


13 


? 


J 


His  effort  Is  earnest,  able  and  bold It  presents,  in  all  then 

aaked  strength,  thoughts  and  arguments  which  will  have  to  be  mei 
nud  answered.—  The  Methodist^  New  York. 

Mr.  Gill  possesses  the  rare  faculty  of  investing  an  abstruse  subject 
with  the  graces  of  a  flowing  diction,  clear  expression,  and  mauly 
strength.— C  W.  Hubner,  author  of  mid  Flowers,  etc. 

The  author  is  evidently  an  independent  thinlcer,  and  writes  with  a 

good  degree  of  force He  slashes  right  and  left,  and  goes  straight 

forward  to  his  objective  point.— JVew  York  Christian  Advocate. 

It  is  a  work  of  careful  thought,  clearly  setting  forth  the  foundation 
and  arguments  of  evolution,  and  reviewing  its  opponents ;  and  is  com- 
manding a  large  sale. — Poughkeepsie  Eagle. 

Thougli  an  orthodox  clergyman,  he  accepts  the  theory  of  evolution. 

The  attitude  of  Mr.  Gill,  and  his  courage  in  maintaining  it 

are  worthy  of  note.— New  York  World. 

A  very  original  production,  and  will  mark  an  epoch  in  the  liistcry 
of  the  doctrine,  and  will  become  its  standard  philosophical  exposi- 
tion.— The  South,  New  York. 

A  work  of  remarkable  power,  originality  of  thought,  and  logical 
acumen.  Is  bound  to  attract  permanent  attention  in  this  country  aud 
in  Europe.—  Musical  Eclectic. 

A  writer  in  the  Independent  pronounces  it  an  extraordinary  book- 
one  that  will  mark  an  epoch  in  science  and  philosophy. — Poughkeepsie 
Eagle. 

The  author  of  «* Evolution  and  Progress"  is  an  uncompromising 
devotee  of  truth,  and  his  argument  is  conducted  in  the  most  interest- 
ing manner. — Popular  Science  Monthly. 

Your  able  criticisms  of  the  writings  of  Spencer  show  that  you  com- 
prehend the  meaning  and  force  of  words Many  await    with 

anxiety,  the  forthcoming  work  promised. — Anonymous  letter  to  the 
author. 

An  excellent  work.  Its  line  of  thought  is  ably  and  interestingly 
conducted.  Has  done  much,  no  doubt,  in  aiding  strong  minds  in 
grasping  the  points  at  issue  between  faith  and  science  much  better 
than  before. — J.  E.  Murst,  D.D.,  PresH  JDvw  Theological  Seminary. 

Unquestionably  the  ablest  work  in  favor    .'  Evolution  that  has  come 

In  our  way The  statements  are  iogicnUy  and  porspicuously 

made,  and  the  tone  is  temperate  and  philosophical. — Chris.  Advocate, 
Nashville,  Tenn. 

A  vigorous  and  original  work,  the  product  of  a  highly  gifted  intcl- 
lect.  The  author  manifests  acquaintance  with  and  investigation  into 
the  subtleties  surrounding  the  question  of  evolution.  A  svork  of  dig- 
nity and  intellectual  research. — F.  G.  Johnson,  M.  D. 

The  work  of  placing  absolute  evolution  upon  an  impregnable  basi* 
has  been  done  by  Mn  Gill,  and  with  a  subtle  metaphysical  insig)  '  and 
an  absolute  logical  consistency  which  will  entitle  this  book  to  be  re- 
garded as  the  standard  philosophical  exposition  and  defence  of  abso- 
lute evolution. — Rev.  Joseph  A.  Owen,  A.  M.,  Rutherford  Park,  N.  J. 

It  is  dedicated  to  '» Herbert  Spencer  and  the  Great  Brotherhood  of 
Evatigelical  Divines," — a  conjunction  unusual,  unexpected,  yet  com- 
forting to  the  spirit Chapter  VI.,  on  "  Creation,  Miracles,  and  a 

Personal  God/  Cv^ntains  views  which  will  probably  not  be  prevalent  in 
Evangelical  pulpits  at  present.  The  argument,  from  the  author's 
standpoint,  is  very  clearly  and  sacciuctly  stated,  and  worthy  of 
perusal. — Daily  Press,  Portland,  Me. 

It  is  a  book  of  original  thinking  on  one  of  the  greatest  themes.  Mr, 
Gill  lirnily  believes  in  the  doctrine  of  evolution,  which  ho  has  trans- 
lated out  of  technical  phraseology  into  his  own  simpler  language.  He 
has  been  an  extensive  reader  of  philosophical  works,  as  well  assoieu* 
Ulic A  kooM,  Ihouf^htfiil,  vigorous  volunio  —Golden  Age.    ,. 


Xl 


W.  B.  SMITH  &  CO'S  DESCBIPTIVE  LIST. 


One  of  the  moat  manly,  tboroagh,  candid,  and  natural  productions 
of  this  century,  exhibiting  great  research,  with  unbounded  splendor 
of  thought  and  loyal  attachment  to  truth, — permeated  everywhere 
with  forcible  evideaoea  of  a  highly  cultivated  and  original  mind, — lift- 
ing the  author  into  the  front  rank  of  minds, — rendering,  throughout 
time,  liis  name  and  logical  genius  immortal  and  imperishable.  The 
healthiest,  holiest  and  most  heroic  emanation  from  the  pulpit  or  press 
of  this  nineteenth  century. — JR.  JRogeraon,  M,  D.,  L.  B.  C,  P. 

The  reader  will  be  startled  with  the  boldness  of  his  attacks;  and, 
for  the  most  part,  will  flrd  himself  compelled  to  concede  the  tliorough- 

ness  of  his  iconoclastic  handling  of  his  adversaries He  drives 

at  his  mark  with  wonderful  directness,  and  certainly  makes  plain  the 
act  that  the  stock  arguments  of  anti-evolutionibts  are  leaky  in  soma 
essential  particulars,  and  need  a  thorough  overhauling.  We  recom* 
mend  the  book  to  all  who  love  the  truth  and  have  a  taste  for  olooe, 
incisive  reasoning,  in  the  verbal  dress  of  a  highly  cultivated  mind. — 
Baltimore  Methodist  Protestant. 


Trial  of  Rev.  Wm.  I.  Gill,  before  the  Newark  Methodist  Ooiifer- 
ence,  for  Writing  "  Evolution  and  Progress." 


[From  the  N.  Y.  Sun,  April  1,  1875.] 

The  Newark  Conference  of  the  M.  E. 
Church  met  In  Trinity  Church,  Jersey- 
City,  yesterday  morning.  Bishop  Bowman, 
presiding.  A  motion  to  appoint  a  commit- 
tee to  investigate  the  charges  of  heresy  pre- 
ferred against  Dr.  Gill  led  to  a  protracted 
and  warm  discussion.  His  work  on  "Evo- 
lution AND  I'noanESS"  was  criticised 
as  rejecting  "lUbleisni,  miraclelsm,  and 
out  Humlug  Hume,''  tho  quotation  being 
from  a  review  published  in  a  Methodist 
periodical.  Dr.  Adams  charKed  that  the 
book  was  thoroughly  infidel  in  its  tenden- 
cies, and  that  its  theory  of  evolution  was 
not  only  opposed  to  revelation,  but  a  clear 
denial  of  tne  personal  existence  of  (iod. 
The  motion  to  appoint  a  committee  was 
then  adopted. 

[Prota  the  N.  Y.  Times,  April  2,  1875.] 

Yesterday  the  Bishop  announced  the 
names  of  a  committee  appointed  to  investi- 
gate a  charge  of  heresy  preferred  against 
Bev.  Wm.  I.  Gill. 

[From  the  N.  Y.  Sun,  April  6,  1875.] 
In  the  Newark  M.  E.  Conference  yester- 
day, the  Gill  heresy  committee  reported. 
The  report  was  laid  over. 

[From  the  N.  Y.  Herald,  April  7,  1875.] 

The  session  of  the  Newark  Methodist 
Conference,  at  Jersey  City  yesterday,  was 
the  most  lively  since  the  commencement  of 
tlie  proceedings. 

The  Gill  heresy  case  was  taken  up,  and  a 
lively  debate  took  place  for  and  against  the 
report  of  the  Investigating  committee. 
During  the  debate,  a  decided  feeling  was 
manifested  among  the  audience,  and  the 
Rev.  Dr.  Porter  hoped  that  no  such  mani- 
festations would  be  repeated.  Bishop  Bow- 
man said  that  such  exhli)ltlons  could  not  '>a 
permitted,  at  which  a  pious  brother  le- 
marked  that  he  couldn't  help  saying 
» "amen' •  once  in  a  while.         ,  ^  ^, 

llev.  Mr.  Gill  then  arose  and  opened  his 
defence.  The  proposition  he  put  to  the 
brethren  was  a  very  plain  one.  If  theyUKl 
not  like  the  book  tiiey  could  reject^  It.  He 
held  that  there  was  nothing  in  It,  In  his 
hollef,  not  in  accordance  with  the  tenets 
of  the  Methodist  Church,  and  he  c  aimed 
tho  right  to  uuderbland  his  own  book.    He 


proposed,  however,  tt>  search  after  trutb 
wherever  it  may  be  found,  whether  the 
Conference  believed  It  was  truth  or  not. 
He  did  not  believe  It  was  thebuslnessof  the 
Conference  to  pass  judgment  as  to  what 
were  the  truths  of  science.  His  book  was 
written  according  to  new  ideas  which  have 
been  evolved,  and  he  said  that  to-day  the 
evolutionists  have  the  advantage  phllo- 
sopliically  over  the  Church.  He  thought 
old  ideas  ought  to  be  laid  aside  when  God 
furnishes  new  ones.  Mr.  Gill  then  spoke  of 
the  paiti  he  felt  because  he  was  misunder- 
stood. He  said,  however,  that  although  he 
is  mistniderstood,  he  still  deemed  that  he 
was  right.  He  thanked  God  that  he  was  a 
Methodist,  and  hoped  that  the  eyes  of  the 
brethren  would  be  opened  to  more  advanced 
ideas,  and  that  they  will  receive  more  con- 
fidence. As  to  the  report  of  the  committee, 
if  it  was  adopted  he  did  not  know  whether 
he  would  be  able  to  give  entire  satisfaction. 

llev.  Dr.  Crane  paid  a  glowing  tribute  to 
the  religious  character  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Gill, 
but  thought  that  the  bane  and  the  antidota 
in  the  book  were  too  far  apart.  Rev.  Mr. 
Atkinson  argued  against  the  adoption  of 
the  report.  He  thought  it  would  be  very 
inconsistent  for  tlie  Conference  to  send 
forth  a  minister  to  preach  a  gospel  which 
his  book  utterly  destroys. 

After  remarks  by  other  speakers  the  ques- 
tion was  put  on  the  adoption  of  the  report, 
and  it  was  carried,  and  the  character  of  the 
Rev.  Mr.  Gill  was  passed. 

[From  the  Christian  Index,  Atlanta,  Ga., 
May  6,  1875.  D 

Charges  were  brought  against  him  in  the 
Newark,  New  Jersey,  Conference,  of 
''^ercvand  atheism,"  on  account  of  his 
book.  K«5  passed  the  ordeal,  however,  tri- 
umphantly as  his  faith  was  unimpeachable, 
though  the  Conference  called  public  atten- 
tion lo  Dr.  Gill's  philosophy,  and  caused 
an  increased  sale  of  his  booK. 

[From  the  Baltimore  Methodist  Protest- 
ant, Apt  11 10,  1875.] 
itev.  W.  1.  GUI,  author  of  '-Evolution 
and  Progress,''  noticed  .some  weeks  since 
in  our  coluuHis,  has  been  charged  wltli 
heresy  before  his  Conferonce  bv  certain 
brethren  who  see  In  his  book  "  hyd  ras,  ai>«l 
gornaus  ami  chimeras  dlio. ' ' 


-ii 


W.   B.   9Mlrn  u  CO'S  descriptive  LI3T. 


10 


jr 
re 

t- 
it 


The  Universe  of  Language, 


I.  Nature,  Development,  and  I^eeuUarities  of  Language. 

n.  Structure,  loith  Uniform  Notation  and  Class! licatlon 


{in  front  of  book).  By  the  late  George  Watson,  Esq.,  of 
Boston.  Edited  and  prepared  for  the  press  by  his  daughter, 
E.  H.  Watson,  author  of  "Is  Our  Republic  a  Failure?"  etc. 
Cloth  extra,  tinted  paper,  12mo.,  344  pp.  Price  $1.50. 

The  whole  volnnio  is  scholarly.— JMtt«<.  Christian  Weekly,  New  York. 

Must  play  a  part  iu  approxiuating  the  language  to  a  desirable  uuiformlty.— <^inc2/ 
(lU.)  Whig. 

Is  a  learned  contributiou  to  the  permanent  advantage  and  adTancemcut  of  phi- 
lology.— Penn  Record. 

An  interesting  and  valuable  work.  There  is  much  in  it  to  attract  the  attention  of 
philologists. — Boston  Traveller. 

Is  specially  creditable  to  tlio  author.  A  great  deal  of  philological  information  ie 
condensed  iu  it,  and  presented  iu  an  attractive  form.— Epitome  of  Literature,  PhUa. 

An  important  and  valuable  work,  treated  in  a  broad  and  coitiprehensivo  fonn, 
Mr.  Watson's  views  are  regarded  favorably  by  Prof.  Whitney,  Prof.  Haldeinan,  Prof. 
Marsh,  and  many  others. — New  York  Mail. 

Shows  tliroiighout  careful  and  conscientious  investigation,  and  abounds  in  ingc 
dIous  suggestions  which  can  not  but  be  of  great  value,  particularly  to  educators.  It  is 
so  lucidly  written,  and  the  several  topics  are  developed  so  naturally,  that  any  reader 
who  is  interested  iu  linguistic  dLscussions  will,  if  ho  once  begins  its  perusal,  go  through 
it  witb  increasing  pleasure. — Boston  Journal. 

1  am  greatly  interested  in  the  suhject. — Rt.  Hon.  Wm.  E.  Gladstone. 

I  shall  be  glad  to  do  what  I  can  for  the  book,  and  hope  it  may  do  good. — Prof.  Fran- 
cit  W.  Newman. 

A  very  valuable  contribution  to  one  of  the  most  interesting  questions  of  the  day. 
—Sir  Charles  Reed,  PresiderU  of  the  London  Sehool  Board. 

Mr.  Watson's  intention  was  to  systematise  the  universal  elements  of  language, 
arran|^ng  them  so  that  in  the  result  the  Tiaturnl  sounds  of  the  human  voice,  as  con- 
tained iu  spoken  tongues,  could  bo  applied  in  this  one  system  to  the  exponential  pro- 
nunciation of  all  languages.  Oriental  as  well  as  European.  Altogether,  it  is  a  curious 
and  interesting  contribution  to  one  of  the  topics  of  the  day. — American  Bookseller. 

Is  an  exceedingly  interesting  contribution  to  the  literature  of  philology.  It  advo- 
cates the  adoption  of  a  uniform  notation  and  classification  of  vowels,  and  suggests  a 
more  consistent  method  than  has  heretofore  been  broached.  Is  very  attractivii  read- 
ing, and  manifests  not  only  a  tliorough  familiarity  with  the  subject,  but  deep  thought 
and  clear  reasoning.  It  is  pleasing  in  style  and  calm  iu  argument,  and  merits  a  careful 
and  respectful  consideration. — Boston  Gazette. 

Miss  Watson  believes  as  earnestly  as  did  her  father  in  the  necessities  of  a  reform 
in  the  language,  and  supplements  the  work  be^un  by  him  with  force  and  ability.  It  is 
written  with  a  simplicity  and  directness  which  malies  it  doubly  valuable.  Its  appear- 
ance at  this  time,  when  there  is  so  much  active  interest  taken  in  the  subject  upon 
which  it  treats,  is  exceedingly  opiM)rtuno;  and  we  commend  it  to  the  attention  of  phi- 
lologists and  students  iu  general. — Boston  I'ranscrivt. 

Q'he  late  Mr.  George  Watson  had  for  more  than  fifty  years  devoted  his  leisure 
to  philological  and  linguistic  studies,  and  ho  left  iu  manuscript  a  system  of  notation 
and  cla.ssiticatiou  of  vowels  for  all  languafjes.  *  *  *  The  recent  convention  of  phi- 
lological societies  at  Philadelphia,  and  the  vigorous  attempts  now  made  to  improve 
the  English  lau'^uage,  h.ave  induced  Miss  Watson  to  publish  her  father's  system.  Miss 
Watson  has  added  to  this  carefully  developed  flystem  of  notation  a  half  dozen  prelim- 
inary essays  on  the  nature  of  language,  making  a  popular  summary  of  the  present  con- 
jlition  of  linguistic  science.    Entertaining  reading. — Boston  Advertiser. 

She  contribtites  to  the  que.stiou  the  tacts  about  twin  boys,  horn  in  Massachusetts, 
of  German  porentage,  who  refused  to  make  any  use  of  the  English  tcmgue,  spoken  iu 
their  presence;  but  they  invented  a  language  of  their  own,  in  which  they  communi- 
cated with  each  other  in"  the  mo-st  lively  manner;  nor  would  they  ever  learn  or  use  any 
Eufflish  word  until  they  were  compelled  to  at  school.  By  the  study  of  the  few  elements 
of  liunian  siteeeb  (■(tiiiinon  to  all  languages,  we  are  coming  to  see  thnt  there  are  no 
un8uri)aHMolil(^  ditficiilties  in  ncciuirinir  the  iironiuiciation  of  any  language.  The  essay 
'ill  ri'ii;iv  careful  stiKly.  ami  is  woriliy  the  attenlion  of  all  those  interested  in  the 
ctiuly  of  t  lie  hiiigiiiiiii'.— //(.'<7/(jr(i  Cum  ant. 


! 

i 


18 


W.   n.   SMITH  &  CO'3  DESCRIPTIVE  LIST. 


Til 


Is  Our  Republic  a  Failure? 

A  Discussion  of  the  Rights  and  Wrongs  op  this  JSokTb'  awi» 
THE  South.  By  E.  H.  Watson,  author  of  "  United  States 
and  their  Origin,"  etc.  English  cloth,  ink  and  gold,  12mo, 
436  pp.     Second  edition.  Price  $1.50. 

Any  private  or  public  librarj'  m  this  country  which  overlooks  the  politi- 
cal history  of  our  Republic  can  hardly  be  considered  complete,  and  there  is 
probably  no  work  which  is  so  essential  in  such  connection  as  this  volume. 
Every  man  who  takes  active  part  in  political  affairs  will  comprehend  his 
relation  and  duties  to  the  public  much  better  after  reading  this  book,  and 
every  young  man  who  expects  or  desires  to  hold  any  public  office  should 
study  it  as  a  preparatory  course  for  his  calling. 

Is  peculiarly  a  book  for  the  times. — Cleveland  Plaindealer. 

Of  lively  iin'porftiuce  and  deep  political  siguificauce. — Boston  TraveOer. 

In  a  spirit  of  genuine  candor  and  unswerving  impartiality. — New  Tork  Sun. 

It  is  fair,  candid,  impartial,  the  whole  subject  well  treated. — ^HoN.  J.  H.  Blake, 
«/  Boston. 

Will  arouse  every  reader  to  a  broader  comprehension  and  profounder  interest  iiv 
the  science  and  possiuilitics  of  government. — Indianapolis  Journal. 

I  like  the  spirit  of  the  book,  its  comprehensive  patriotism,  its  liberal  spirit,  and  its 
healing  counsels. — HON.  George  S.  Hillakd,  author  oj^  ''Franklin  Readers,"  etc. 

Thoioughly  earnest  and  honest.  Its  patriotism  is  broad  and  comprehensive,  its 
conclu.sions  logical,  and  its  suggestions  wise,  liberal,  and  timely. — Boone  {la.) Republican. 

1  read  the  manuscript  with  much  interest;  an  interest  belonging  to  the  arguments 
themselves,  but  now  increased  by  the  perfection  given  to  the  form  and  style.— Hon. 
Mautin  Bkimmrr,  Boston. 

Lucid  and  just.  The  method  of  the  argument,  the  facts  on  which  it  proceeds,  and 
the  conciliatory  spirit  which  invests  them,  contribute  to  the  book  a  value  which  can 
not  be  too  highly  estimated.— Gen.  John  Cochrane. 

Treats  of  tlie  real  constitutional  principles  which  comprise  our  system  of  govem- 
mont  in  relation  to  the  issues  which  divide  the  country  into  sectional  and  adverse  par- 
ties, in  a  clear  and  liberal  spirit,  and  from  an  entirely  independent  standpoint.— J?08ton 
Herald. 

The  author  treats  the  whole  subject-  concisely,  and  with  that  clearness  which  has 
so  often  made  the  intuitive  quickness  of  woman's  intellect  more  than  a  match  for  man's 
plodding  and  ponderous  reason.  Deserves  a  wide  circulation,  and  thorough  perusal. 
—The  South,  New  Tork. 

The  principles  of  American  statesmanship  which  it  asserts  must  essentially  pre- 
vail, unless  we  are  so  soon  to  fall  from  our  hish  plane  of  constitutional  republicanism. 
I  shall  spare  no  exertion  to  ])romote  the  knowledge  of  such  an  able  and  impaitial  and 
statesmanlike  compendium  of  our  present  political  philosophy. — ^HOM.  John  Quinc7 
Adams,  2[ass. 

Clearly  expressed,  and  the  argument  is  closely  and  ably  maintained.  The  tone 
and  the  temper  of  the  writer  are  beyond  praise.  They  are  as  valuable  as  they  are  rare. 
They  are  those  of  a  patriotic  and  phUosophical  observer  of  men.  The  like  spirit  every- 
wliere  diffused  among  our  people  would  make  fraternal  union  as  certain  aft  desirable ; 
and,  if  brought  to  the  discussion  of  public  affairs,  would  secure  the  adoption  of  wise 
and  beneficent  coui>sels.— Hon,  Geo.  H.  Pendleton,  Ohio. 

We  cheerfully  recommend  this  volume. — University  Press,  Madison,  JVis. 

It  deals  with  parties  and  with  party  leaders,  and  closes  with  a  plea  for  tolerance  of 
opinion  and  national  unity. — Baltimore  Gazette. 

A  serious,  if  not  startling,  question  is  here  propounded— one  which  requires  the  care- 
ful consideration  of  every  thoughtful  mind,  when  the  extent  of  the  issues  embraced 
becomes  realized.  The  discussion  treats  of  the  relations  of  the  constitutional  principles 
of  our  government  to  the  sectional  and  partisan  issues  of  the  present  day.  It  reviews 
the  Northern  arguments  regarding  secession,  including  the  construction  to  be  placed  on 
the  original  word!  g  of  the  Constitution  ;  the  powers  reserved  to  the  people  ;  the  idea 
of  whom  the  "People"  consists;  the  difference  between  Revolution  and  Secession  ; 
the  question  of  "Conquest"  and  military  force  ;  Civil  and  Religious  Liberty  ;  and  Onr 
Fathers  and  the  Work  of  To-day.  It  then  takes  up  the  doctrine  of  "State  Riglits." 
The  author  passes  on  the  great  issues  of  the  country  in  detail  and  the  present  aspect 
of  political  parties.  In  the  last  section  are  embraced,  -amonff  other  special  topics, 
"Northern  and  Southc-  Radicalism,"  "The  Will  of  the  People,"  'The  Ismie  before 
the  People,"  "  Powers  ot  the  Government,"  and-"  Perils  of  the  Hour."  The  discussion 
ia  maintained  in  a  clear,  able  manner,  and  the  generous,  inii>;'.ri'.;l  r-itlr'.t  t.hown  is 
praiseworthy  in  the  hirhest  do<i;rce.  Observation  and  painstikiii  r  t'loti^ht  are  observa- 
ble in  every  lino,  end  tho  book  i?  well  worth  the  periisul  of  all  who  t".Uc  an v  interest 
In  tlie  affairs  of  tlie  usitio:\.—EpUom€  of  Liteixilurc,  rkiladttiMa, 


I 


f. 


i 


W.   B.  SillTU  &.  CO 'a  DESCHII'TIVE  LIST. 


35 


Author's  Manuscript  Paper. 

Our  own  manufacture,  of  white  paper,  made  from  superior 
stock,  and  sold  only  in  ream  pt^ckages — each  package  war- 
ranted to  contain  full  count  of  480  sheets. 
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How  Every  Buyer  Gets  His  Money's  "Worth. 

It  is  made  with  strong  fibre  and  smooth  surface,  in  two  grades  only,  (Nos.  1  and  2). 
These  grades  are  similar  in  quality,  and  differ  merely  in  weight. 

The  shape  and  style  (ruled  on  one  side,  the  other  side  plain),  is  approved  by  vmters 
and  preferred  by  printers ;  and  it  has  now  become  the  popular  standard  paper  for 
authors,  contributors,  editors,  and  writers  generally. 

How  THIS  Department  is  Managed. 

Six  years  ago  the  Authors'  Pub.  Co.  introduced  this  paper  to  authors  and  writers. 
Its  sale  grew  so  rapidly  that  the  JUuuuttcript  Fuper  JUepartineiit  became  an 
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The  Company  sells  no  other  stationery.  The  present  large  sales  of  this  paper  to 
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greater  satisfaction  alike  to  dealers  and  consumers. 

HoAv  Everybody  Speaks  op  It. 

We  find  it  just  what  teachers  and  pupils  need.— New  England  Journal  of  Education. 

Celebrated  for  the  use  of  authors  and  contributors.  It  is  of  excellent  quality,  and 
convenient  to  both  writer  and  piiater.— Providence  Town  and  Country. 

The  distinguishing  feature  of  the  Manuscript  Paper  is  its  convenient  shape.  The 
texture  is  neither  too  thick  nor  too  thin,  making  it  in  every  way  o  desirable  paper  for 
writers  and  contributors.— -^cto  ColuvMana,  New  York. 

Manuscript  Manual. 

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concise  and  reliable  guide  for  authors,  contributors  and 
writers  generally.    Paper  covers Price  10  ceilts. 

"  Sound  and  Useful." 
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f.      Give&  excellent  hints  to  intending  wniGn.— Cleveland  Evangelical  Messenger. 
A  most  iseful  little  companion  to  the  young  writer  and  editor,— T/ie  South,  N.  Y. 

"  Punctuation— A  Volume  in  a  Nut  Shell." 
Will  really  give  you  a  great  deal  of  useful  information  —Louisville  Iloine  and  School. 
Is  practically  ^vrittcn.    The  chapter  on  punctuation  is  a  volume  In  a  nutshell.— 
London  Paper  and  Pnnting  Trade  Journal. 

Letter  WntTiNO. 
While  the  suggestions  it  contains  on  writing  for  the  pressiare  moBt  valuable,  it  would 
not  be  amiss  for  all  young  people  to  read  and  practice  the  rules  given  in  its  pages,    Th?. 
art  of  letter  writing  could  be  more  easily  learned  from  it  than  from  a  score  of  "  lettot 
writers."    Wo  most  heartily  commend  it.—  Chumpatg)i  (/«.)  Oasette. 


m 


36 


W.  B.  GaiiTii  ii  co'3  or.sc:::PTrrr:  list. 


Scrap  Books,  and  How  to  Make  Thsm. 

Containing  full  Instructions  for  making  a  Complete  and 
Systematic  Set  of   Useful  Books.     By  E.  W.  Gurley. 

Cloth  extra,  16mo 40cts. 

Extract  from  Author's  "Ii^troductiox." 

Our  life  is  a  living  Scrap  Book. 

And  what  a  book !  Here  a  gleam  of  Poetry,  there  a  long 
dreary  stretch  of  Prose,  now  the  tragedy  of  an  Accident — 
nothing  to  the  world,  but  a  calamity  to  him — then  a  ripple  of 
Fun,  a  dash  of  Sentiment,  a  thrill  of  Joy,  a  pang  of  Grief. 

The  man  of  highest  attainments,  whom  the  world  calls  thor- 
oughly educated,  knows  he  is  nothing  but  an  animated  Scrap- 
Book.  A  smattering  of  the  Languages,  a  little  of  Mathematics, 
a  glimpse  of  Science,  a  few  of  the  odds  and  enda  of  Nature, 
jumbled  together  and  pasted  in  mosaically — this  is  all,  and  no 
one  knows  it  better  than  he 


I.  Intboduction, 
II.  My  Expbriencb. 

III.  Why    Should   wk    Makk    Scbap- 

BOOKS  f 

IV.  Who  Should  Make  Scrap- Books  ? 
V.  Gatheuinq  the  Materials. 

VI.  Selecting  the  Articles. 
VII.  Classifying  the  Articles. 
VIII.  Preparing  the  Articles 


CONTENTS. 

IX.  Number  and  Names  of  Books. 
X.  Making  the  Book. 
XI.  Recipes  for  Paste,  &o. 
XII.  Making  a  Press— illustrated. 

XIII.  Paging  and  Indexing  the  Book. 

XIV.  Specimen  of  Indexes. 
XV.  Specimen  Pages  of  Scrap-Books. 

XVI.  Scrap-Books     as     Hoxb     AuusB' 

MENTS. 


Extract  from  "  Why  Should  we  Make  Scrap-Books  ?  " 

In  Franklin's  day  there  were  two  newspapers  in  America ; 
now  there  are  about  8000  periodicals  of  all  grades,  constantly 
flooding  the  land  with  a  stream  of  intelligence.  Much  of  this 
is  ephemeral,  born  for  the  day  and  dying  with  the  day;  yet 
scarcely  a  paper  falls  into  the  hands  of  the  intelligent  reader  in 
which  he  does  not  see  something  worth  keeping.  *  * 
Extract  from  "  Who  Should  keep  a  Scrap-Book  ?  " 

Every  one  who  reads 

Jefferson  was  in  the  habit  of  collecting,  in  this  form,  all  the 
information  bearing  on  certain  points  in  which  he  was  interested. 

Sumner  was  an  habitual  gatherer  of  Scraps,  and  found  them 
invaluable  aids  to  even  his  vast  field  of  information. 

It  is  said  of  another  noted  Congressman  that  he  dreaded  an 
opponent  of  much  inferior  powers,  because  the  latter  was  a  care- 
ful compiler  of  Scrap-Books,  and  thus  had  a  fund  of  knowledge 
which  the  more  brilliant  man  did  not  possess. 

President  Hayes  is  also  a  practical  believer  in  Scrap-Books, 
and  has  already  a  large  collection. 

Extract  from  "  Gathering  the  Materials." 

.  .  .  Look  at  every  old  paper,  almanac,  circular  and  scrap 
of  paper  before  throwing  it  away.  It  will  astonisii  you  to  see 
how  many  things  people  trample  under  their  feet  which  should 
be  put  into  their  heads. 


t 


■ 


I 
I 


v;.  D.  3:.;!?a  d  co'.i  de.io  iii'Tivn  list. 


58 


Boman  Catholicism  in  the  United  States. 

Cloth  extra,  ink  ami  gold,  beveled  edges,  190  pp $1.25. 

Mr.  James  Anthony  Froude  reviews  this  book  in  an  article  wliich 
occupies  first  place  in  jind  runs  through  two  numbers  of  TJin 
North  Ammcan  Remew.  Mr.  Froude  calls  this  work  "  A  note  of 
alarm  sounded,  not  by  a  theological  controversiahst,  but  by  a 
moderate  and  sensible  man  of  the  world."  This  distinguished 
and  able  reviewer  adds  : 

"  The  Roman  Catholic  body  is  the  largest,  strongest  and  wealthiest  in 
the  Union.  That  religion,  unfortunately,  is  by  its  own  choice  at  war  with 
every  other,  and  the  American  Constitution  is  the  political  expression  of 
the  principles  which  the  Pope  has  violently  condemned.  To  the  Ropublic, 
as  it  stands,  the  Catholic  system  is  a  direct  menace.  Compromise  is  im- 
possible. A  republican  form  of  government  implies  freedom  aud  self- 
reliance  ;  and  freedom  and  self-reliance  are  extinguished  in  Komanisra 
as  a  flame  goes  out  in  carbonic  acid." — North  American  Review. 

Written  with  earnestness  and  moderation. — Courier  Journal. 

The  whole  subject  is  well  and  temperately  considered. — Independent. 

Very  thorough  in  his  language  and  witliout  prejudice. — Harrislmri^  In- 
dependent. 

The  style  of  the  book  is  dignified  and  the  spirit  manifestly  sincere. — 
Chicago  Times. 

Much  study  has  prepared  the  author  to  present  the  subject  in  all  its 
phases,  moral  and  political. — Southern  Quar.  Review. 

Calm,  but  very  strong  and  able.  The  subject  is  treated  wholly  as  a 
political  matter  in  the  best  sense  of  the  word.  -Boston  Watchman. 

Doha  not  touch  at  all  upon  the  question  of  religious  doctrine,  V)ut  con- 
fines ills  consideration  to  the  practical  aspects  of  the  subject. — American 
Bookseller. 

Able  and  well  informed.  The  argument  is  in  a  singularly  calm  and 
dispassionate  tone,  but  with  great  force  of  reasoning  and  fertility  of 
illustration. — N.  V.  Tribune. 

Its  style  is  simple  and  direct ;  its  logic  strong,  if  not  absolutely  invin- 
cible. Its  argument  has  no  relation  to  a  "doctrinal  tirade."  It  lias 
nothing  to  do  with  doctrines.  The  issue  is  taken  where  a  great  church 
polity  and  a  great  principle  of  human  government  meet;  and  the  discus- 
sion is  conducted  throughout  with  the  utmost  calmness,  or  without  a 
single  touch  of  heat  or  passion.  It  is  entirely  above  the  plane  of  abuse — 
it  is  fact  and  logic,  pure,  clear  and  irresistible. — The  American  Monthly. 

The  author  is  a  merchant  of  this  city,  who  passes  his  leisure  liour-;  in 
"the  still  air  of  delightful  studies."  His  able  pen  had,  previously  to  llie 
work  before  us,  given  to  the  world  a  vigo-ous  argument  to  show  tlio  en- 
tire harmony  of  religion  and  science.  In  this  book  he  has  offered  strong 
reasons  for  believing  that  the  liberties  of  the  country  can  only  be  pre- 
served by  watchfulness  ac^ainst  the  perils  which  beset  them  from  Roman 
Catholicism.  He  sets  forth  his  views  so  calmly,  so  temperately,  with  so 
much  comprehensiveness  and  breadth  of  view,  looking  before  and  after, 
and  with  such  a  sweet  persuasivness,  that  those  views  cannot  fail  to 
vjcoivo  th«*arnest  and  careful  consideration  they  deserve.— .^V.  Y.  MaiL 


I  I 


5a 


W   .   IJ.   fJ.MITII  ii  CO  S   UilJCiill'TIVi;  LI8T. 


''fix 


Prevention  and  Cure  of  Chronic  Consumption. 

By  David  Wark,  M.  D.,  rrofcssor  of  Obstetrics  and  Diseases  of 
Women  and  Cliildron  in  tlio  United  States  Medical  College,  New 
Yorlt.    Second  edition  witli  important  additions,  Cloth  extrp..  .80  cts. 

A  useful  work. — Churchman,  N.  Y.  -  • 

It  is  a  most  practical,  common-sense,  valuable  work. — Patriot,  Concord,  N,  II, 

Tiiere  seems  to  bo  much  reason  in  what  it  declares. — Congregationalisl,  Boston. 

This  is  the  most  eJoctual  method  at  present  known. — Sat,  Journal,  Lewiston,  Me. 

A  valuable  auxiliary  in  the  treatment  of  chronic  pulmonary  Consumption. — Boston  Pilot. 

Throws  new  light  upon  a  diseaue  which  has  been  supposed  incurable. — Cambridge,  Mass., 
Tribune. 

Those  who  are  threatened  with  the  disease  would  do  well  to  consult  this  littlo  book. 
— Boston  Traveller. 

Adapted  to  developing  breathing-power  as  a  preventive  of  Consumption,  and  as  a  cure. 
—The  Methodist,  N.  Y. 

Designed  to  be  appliciable  by  any  intelligent  reader,  and  beneficial  without  the  aid  of  a 
jAxY»\c\a.ix.— Baptist  Weekly,  N.  Y. 

This  "provoution  and  cure"  looka  mgre  reasonable  than  anything  else  we  have  ever 
hoard  of. — Journal  and  Messenger,  Cincinnati,  O. 

Sensible,  useful,  being  especiallj  well  written,  thorough,  clear,  and  assured  in  its  state- 
ments and  recommendations. — Sj^'ingfield  Republican, 

A  trial  of  the  treatment  described  in  this  work  met  with  very  beneficial  results  in  the 
caso  of  a  patient  8ufi"ering  from  malarial  fever. — Cliurch  Union,  N.  Y. 

Dr.  Wark  seems  to  have  made  a  study  of  all  the  forms  of  Consumption.  Ho  discusses 
the  .subject  with  intelligence. — Spy,  Worcester,  Mass, 

Has  made  a  thorough  study  of  the  siibject.  The  book  is  of  value  and  is  to  be  commended 
to  all  who  have  reason  to  investigate  the  subject. — New  Haven  Palladium. 

It  lias  no  quack  medicine  to  offer,  but  very  valuable  hygienic  and  medical  suggestions, 
written  in  popular  style,  without  the  technical  terms  of  the  profession. — Zions  Herald, 
Boston. 

Tae  subject  is  treated  in  the  i^lainest  and  simplest  way,  and  the  volume  will  be  of 
bmoflt  to  all  who  are  suffering  from,  or  subject  to.  Consumption  and  other  diseases 
bpriuging  from  defective  nutrition. — Buffalo  Sunday  Morning  News. 

Embodies  the  results  of  his  long  experience  ;  is  written  in  an  eminently  sensible  and 
practical  manner,  cimsidering  the  subject  from  every  side,  and  worth  the  attention  of 
those  with  weak  lungs. — Boston  Transcript. 

Ts  full  of  helpful  suggestions  to  those  afflicted  with  lung  disease  or  having  consumptive 
tendencies.  The  author  is  an  accomplished  and  experienced  physician,  and  even  to  tlie 
unprofessional  his  statements  are  clear  and  easily  comprehended. — Providence  Press. 

After  reading  this  volume  we  would  have  no  fear  if  we  had  the  consumption,  with  so 
much  Cijufldence  has  the  author  inspired  us  in  the  method  of  cure  which  he  recommends  ; 
and  then,  too,  we  would  have  no  bitter  unpalatable  medicine  to  take. — Student's  Journal, 
Bloomington,  III. 

Discusses  the  nature  of  Pulmonary  Consumption,  and  argues  the  defects  of  the  preva- 
lent  methods  of  treatment.  If  the  author's  theories  are  true,  of  course  the  book  is  a  val- 
uable one,  but  whether  the  theories  are  true  or  not  the  book  is  valuable,  as  an  advocate 
of  physical  training. — Amr.  Bookseller. 

The  treatment  advocated  iu  this  littlo  handbook  is  not  so  much  the  use  of  medicines  aa 
exercise  and  special  training,  and  seems  founded  on  commonseuse  principles.  There  Is  no 
savor  of  quackery  about  it,  and  we  think  the  book  merits  attention,  both  from  the  medi- 
cal faculty  and  from  those  who  are  sutferiug  from  pulmonary  disease. — Boston  Book  Bulletin, 

Is  a  plain,  practical  treatise,  ably  written  and  made  so  clear  and  concise  that  those  in 
whom  the  disease  may  bo  developing  will  find  it  a  welcome  friend.  It  is  written  in  famil- 
iar language — so  familiarized  that  any  person  when  reading  it,  whether  familiar  or  not 
with  medical  terms,  will  read  and  read  to  the  end  and  understand,  and  will  reap  benefits 
by  following  its  suggestions. — Independent,  Harrishurg,  Pa. 

Dr.  Wark  has  hero  given  a  great  deal  of  sound  advice  regarding  tho  treatment  of  Chronic 
Pulmonary  Consumption.  The  truths  he  offers  are  the  direct  deductions  of  modern  physi- 
olngical  scienro,  and  the  treatment  is  the  practical  use  of  these  demonstrated  truths,  for 
tho  cure  of  disease.  The  work  is  interesting,  and  in  a  climate  like  oni-s,  where  su(l<len 
r'langO'i  affeot  both  strong  and  weak  lungs,  tho  information  it  inipart".  is  of  \jfci:o  to  all.— 
Brooklyn  Daily  Eagle. 


\ 


54 


W.  B.   SMITH  A  OO'S  DESCRIPTIVE  LIST, 


Ecctesiology : 


i 


A  Fresh  Inquiry  as  to  the  Fundamental   Idea  an  I  Consti- 
tution of  the  New  Testament  Church  ;  with  a  Supplement  on 
.     Ordination.     By  Rev.  E.  J.  Fish,  D.  D.     Cloth  extra,   fine 

paper,  400  pp.,  1 2 mo Price  $2  00. 

Doctor  Fish  disposes  ibis  volume  into  four  parts.— I.  Tho  Fundamen- 
tal Idea  of  tLe  Church  :  II.  The  New  Testament  Church  Constitution  : 
III.  Application  of  Principles :  IV.  A  Supplement  on  Ordination— and 
addresses  himself  to  his  themes  with  the  full  earnestness  of  ability,  clear- 
ness of  logic,  and  conscientiousness  of  spirit  which  comprehensive  treat- 
ment requires.  As  a  "building  fitly  framed  together,"  it  is  a  fair- 
minded  and  standard  contribution  to  the  best  religious  literature  of  the 
Christian  age. 

What  Prominent  Pastors  and  the  Learned  Clergy  say : 

Deeply  interesting,  Buggestive,  and  helpful.— Rev.  J.N.  Cabslvn,  J'n^tor  Iforth  liapUit 
Church,  Indianapolis,  InU. 

Able,  Bcholarly,  timely,  and  meets  a  felt  want.— Rev.  F.  M.  Ellls,  D.  D.,  Pastor  Bap- 
tist Cnurch,  Denver,  Col. 

Must  commend  itselt'  for  its  painstaking  and  great  ability.  It  is  not  possible  to  read 
it  without  profit.— Rev.  A.  Owen,  Pastor  Lafatjttle  Aoe.  JiajUisl  Vliurdi,  Detroit,  Mich. 

Every  day  I  wish  more  and  more  ardently  that  our  churches  were  built  after  its 
"pattern."- Rev.G.  L.  Stevens,  Pastor  liaplist  Church,  Stu^-f/is,  Mich. 

The  blow  it  has  dealt  wiU  in  time  be  felt  throughout  tho  Church  aud  the  world  ;  and 
my  prayer  to  Ood  is  that  the  time  may  not  be  fiar  distant.— Rev.  W.  W.  Smith,  Pastor 
Litchfield  Baptist  Church,  ilich, 

1  heartily  commend  it  to  the  attentive  perusal  of  all  thinking  Christians.  Those  who 
have  not  made  the  subject  a  special  study  will  be  surprised  at  tho  number  and  force  of 
the  arguments.— Rev.  J.  Waed  Stone,  Pastor  Baptist  Church,  Trenton,  Mich. 

A  delight  to  every  Baptist  pastor,  and  a  most  timely  and  invaluable  aid  to  tho  young 
pastor;  and  it  is,  indeed,  as  a  "strong-hold  to  all  the  assailed  and  the  tempted." — Rev. 
Ueobqe  H.  Hickox,  Chaplain  State  IVison,  Jackson,  Mich. 

I  believe  that  this  is  Christ's  plan,  and  ''hat  the  adoption  of  it  in  our  several  chr.rchRS 
would  conduce  to  a  higher  degree  of  order,  discipline,  unity,  harmony,  stability,  and 
prosperity. — ^Rev.  Wm.  Pack,  late  Pastor  Baptist  Cnurch,  Porter,  Mich.,  in  Uitrml  hiruld. 

It  will  do  good.  It  offers  a  fTesh  view  of  thought  tliat  deserves  to  bo  i'ollowcd  out. 
It  is  written  with  a  nervous  power,  and  is  faithful  to  a  high  conviction.  It  comes  to 
my  heart  aa  firesh  water  from  a  crystal  fountain.— Rev.  Justin  D.  Fulton,  D.  D.,  Pastor 
Hanson  Place  Baptist  Church,  Brooklyn,  A.  Y. 

Evidently  the  result  of  a  most  careful  investigation.  Might  be  adopted  by  any  Bai)- 
tist  or  Congregationid  Church  without  disfellowshipping  them  ITom  their  denominu- 
tion.  Seems  to  give  us  the  best  possible  form  of  Church  government. — Rev.  G.  P. 
OasOBN,  Pastor  First  Baptist  Church,  Huntington,  Ind. 

Carries  its  own  commendation  in  its  scholarly  method,  logical  arrangement,  and  its 
sincere  and  reverent  spirit.  Offering  as  it  does  a  Scriptural  solution  of  the  vexed  ques- 
tion of  Church  Polity  in  a  readable  and  persuasive  style,  it  merits  and  will  repay  tho 
attention  of  all  who  seek  the  truth.— Rbv.  Z.  Qbenbll,  Jb.,  Pastor  First  Baptist  Churcli, 
Bay  City,  Mich. 

Will  richly  repay  a  careful  study  on  the  part  of  the  members  as  well  as  the  ministers 
of  our  churches.  It  strikes  at  the  root  of  many  of  our  false  ideas  respecting  the  Church, 
ii^om  the  beginning  to  the  end  of  the  book  there  is  consistency  and  harmony,  unity 
iind  comprehensiveness,  symmetry  and  beauty  .—Rev.  "Wit.t.tam  Reminoton,  Pastor  liap' 
list  Church,  Bronson,  Mich, 

It  will  be  a  great  help  to  Christianity,  a  power  to  the  ministry,  and  strength  to  any 
Christian  church  adopting  its  method.  We  believe  every  church  should  work  in  ac- 
cordance with  the  plans  therein  set  forth,  for  two  reasons : 

First.— li  will  make  a  church  apostolic  in  government  and  practices. 

Second. A  church  thus  Hcripturaily  orgiTnized,  must  be  a  power  for  good. — Rev.  A.  M. 

Waxhan,  Pastor  First  Baptist  Church,  Batavia,  III. 

It  is  without  a  rival — really  a  text-book.  It  is  eminently  Christian  in  tone  ;  scholarly 
in  style  •  clear  in  its  statements;  methodical  in  arrangement;  strong  and  forcible  in  its 
application  of  truth.  It  meets  what  Pastors  have  long  felt  to  bo  a  pixxsmg  want,  and 
must  serve  a  grand  purpose  in  aiding  in  the  re-establishment  of  tho  primitive  order  of 
the  Church  of  Christ.  It  merits  a  wide— a  very  wide— circulation.— J.  0.  BuBKUouJBifc 
JPostor  Baptist  Qliurch,  %Jentrepille,  4(«pA» 


bi 


w.  B.  HMTTii  fi  COS  D;:sr:nrpTiv:i;  mst. 


THE  CURRENT-THOUGHT  SERIES. 

HANDY  VOLUMES  OF  LATEST  SCIENTIFIC  AND  PHILOSOPHIC  THOUGHT. 


i .  — Anthroposophy. 

By  Bev.  Dr.  C.  C.  Adams,  author  of  "Life  of  J.  J.  Audubon," 
"Life  of  Our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,"  "Creation  a  Recent 
Work  of  God,"  etc.     Boards,  81pp.,  12  mo 40  cts. 

Extract  from  Preface  : 

"If  there  be  any  truth  on  which  man  can  rely  it  is  this:  that 

the  soul  is  the  life  of  animals  and  men;  that  there  is  in  man 

besides  a  mortal  life  an  immortal  spiritual  life  also , and 

that  the  combination  of  these  two  lives  exists  nowhere  on  earth, 

or  in  the  universe — neither  in  God  nor  the  angels — but  in  man." 

II. — The  Spelling  Reform.  Question  Discussed. 

By  E.  H.  "Watson,  author  of  "The  Universe  of  Language," 
"Is  Our  Republic  a  Failure,"  etc.  Paper,  96pp.,  12mo,  25cts. 

An  essa}^,  by  a  distinguished  philologist,  whose  preceding  volume,  in 
same  direction,  Sir  CiiAiiLES  Rbed,  President  of  the  London  School  Board, 
calls  "A  very  valuable  contribution  to  one  of  the  most  interesting  ques- 
tions of  the  day." — Brooklyn  Union  &  Argua. 

Plain,  candid,  convincing. — Chicago  Journal. 

Presented  in  a  strong  light. — Na.  Jour,  of  Education. 

Concise,  useful,  exhaustive. — 8t.  Joseph  {Mo.)  Qazette. 

A  vigorous  protest  against  innovations. — Boston  Oaaette. 

A  strong  argument  against  reforms. — Chicago  Inter-Ocean. 

An  important  contribution  to  the  discussion. — PMla.  Record. 

Pointed  and  vigorous,  cogent  reasoning. — Concord  (N.  H.)  Blade. 

Takes  strong  ground  against  hasty  innovations. — Amr.  BookHeller. 

III.— Individual  Rights. 

By  Martin  Ryerson.     Paper,  62pp.,  12mo 25  cts. 

A  unique  and  incisive  monograph  on  political  and  governmental  econ 
omy.  It  treats,  brielly,  and  from  a  new  standpoint,  many  such  important; 
topics  as  "  The  Laws  and  Rights  of  Life,"  *'  Restoring  Rights  to  the  People, " 
"Money  and  Politics,"  " Finance  and  Commerce,"  "Paper  Money,"  "J.!- 
dividual  and  Party  Rights,"  "  What  Caused  Prosperity  and  What  Brought 
Ruin,"  etc.,  etc. — Chicago  EdiLcational  Weekly. 

The  theories  are  interesting. — N.  T.  8ta/r. 

Should  be  acted  upon. — Newark  Daily  Adv'r.  \ 

He  says  some  very  true  things. — N.  T.  OrapMc. 

Treating  its  subjects  ably. — Lafayette,  Tnd.,  leader. 

^lany  good  things  well  said  therein. — Cuba,  {N.  Y.)  Patriot. 

I  .portuiit  topic?  relating  to  the  riixhLs  of  the  people. — Banner  of  Light. 


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By  Rev.  Wni.  I.  (Jill,  A.M $3.00. 

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sheets. 

Twc  dradoB,  difFcriner  oniy  in  thicknoss  and  ireig:ht : 

Manuscript  Paper,  No.  1 •. $1.'25. 

Manuscript  Paper,  No.  2 $1.00 

By  mail  50  cents  par  ream  extra.  Specimens  mailed  on  receipt 
of  three-cent  stamp. 

Special  discount  to  editorial  ofQces. 


Practical  Commendation  : 

We  find  it  just  what  teachers  and  pupils  need. — Naiional  Journal 
of  Education. 

It  is  of  excellent  quality,  and  convenient  to  both  writer  and 
printer. — Providence  Town  and  Country. 

A.  first  rate  article.  Meets  the  wants  of  a  large  class  of  writers 
better  than  anything  eb'^  which  has  come  to  our  notice.— -American 
Bookseller. 

It  is  made  from  superior  stock,  is  of  convenient  width  and  grade, 
and  is  approved  by  writers  and  preferred  by  printers.— Wesfem 
8tatio7>er  and  Printer,  Chicago, 

Tlie  distinguisliing  feature  of  the  Manuscript  Paper  is  its  con- 
venient shape.  Ttie  texture  is  neither  too  thick  nor  too  thin, 
making  it  in  every  way  a  desirable  paper  for  writers  and  contrib- 
utors;.— Acta  Columbiana,  ^7.  Y. 


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